My Path Beyond Destiny
by Solar Feyera
Summary: After sustaining an injury leaving him unable to settle his debts, a young man ventures on a journey through the scenic Rocaire Region. His nurse, a Gardevoir named Ette, reluctantly winds up accompanying him. However, is the crossing of their paths guided by destiny or something more? Original region, first person PoV, present tense, Human/Gardevoir relationship, leads to citrus.
1. Chapter 1: Unsettled Fate

**A/N: Thanks for checking out my story, if you find it interesting or if it suits your fancy then let me know with a simple follow or favorite, you'll help me stay motivated on it. This fiction is rated Mature for: language, violence, and eventual lemons. Please be patient in this last respect, it involves appropriate development and builds over time. This is my take on a strong bond developing between two characters of different origins on an adventure. It culminates in a romantic relationship between a human main character and a Gardevoir. I can assure you the plot, the region, and the characters have all been given a substantial amount of time, thought, and dedication since I take my writing seriously.  
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**(Update 5/20/20) Concerning change of author name, if you recognize it, welcome back. I have written before as Edge Feyera. Since this fiction is gratefully gaining traction, I'm going to dispel aliases and embrace name recognition. **

**More artwork, updates, and other such things on my Twitter at: SolarFeyera  
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**Archive of Our Own Mirror: **** Ao3/users/Feyera**

**Finally, I'd like to thank Junjie-Oyan for the cover design, the talented artists who have drawn Ette including Rilex Lenov, all my great editors, and of course, you, my reader. I appreciate your support. Alright, that's the last of my author notes, I'll get out of the way from here on so you can enjoy! **

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Chapter 1: Unsettled Fate

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Sunrays from a ceiling window beckon me back to the world of the living.

My throat is parched and my vision blurry. There's the sound of an electric monitor, each bleep ringing with melancholy. No wonder. This is a chilly room filled with medical equipment. Sunshine in a miserable room like this is a cruel joke.

I rub my swollen eyes with a groan. On the bedside table there's another light coming from a strange token of my latest adventure. Shit's bad luck, grabbed it right before getting my ass handed to me, which landed me here in the sickbed.

It glimmers and sparkles like a jewel when held, despite being unpolished and coarse. Attached beneath is a velvety strand of cloth, with some gibberish written in a language I've never seen. Real shame, it's my only lead.

With a rough growl, I hoist myself up with no small degree of trouble. Being out of commission since the incident on the mountain has taken the life out of me, and a few pieces of flesh too. There's a feeling of weakness soon succeeded by sharp discomfort in my arm. The good one anyway. My left arm's in a big cast, from my elbow to my hand, and there's incessant tingling instead of what my fingers ought to be feeling.

I stumble, noticing my balance is way off. My good hand knocks into the table, swatting the stone. Quickly, I try to snag it before it rolls off and lean too far forward. A loud smash follows as the entire table tumbles over, sending medical equipment, silverware, and tin bowls flying in a jarring racket.

"Dammit!" I curse into my sleeve. Only a matter of moments until the medical warden shows up. There's barely enough time to kneel and snatch the piece off the ground and stash it beneath the loose cloth of my hospital gown.

Suddenly, a forceful sound—reminiscent of winter's strongest wind—howls from the hall as the door flies open in front of me.

I look up. She's not even underneath the frame of the door yet, still a few feet in the hallway. Her icy glare though, that's close as ever.

What exactly am I looking at? Oranges, limes, and a slice of grapefruit? No way—can't be right. Amber eyes, unusual for her species. Green hair, long enough for her to tie into twintail braids. A shimmering red gem adorns her chest, jutting out from her snug clothes. Hell, she's wearing a nurse's outfit. My first thought is this must be a prank. Who'd dress up their 'mon like _that_ outside a contest?

"Your injuries aren't going to heal that way," she says with a jaded frown.

She can speak? The hell is this—a fucking joke? I swallow dryly and feel my heart beating faster than usual. As my back presses against the bedside, I try to say the words, 'Stay back!' but my voice is gone.

While my bewilderment does not startle her, it's clear she's hesitant to enter the room. For good reason, I'm half-naked from nearly falling out of a robe the size of a sail.

Nevertheless, she carries on, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. "Broken bones and significant loss of blood." Her head shakes slightly while she places her hands on her waist. "And you're crawling on the floor like Ekans?"

My upper lip stiffens. This is a fever dream no doubt. That or the meds sent me straight into a coma where her kind can speak.

"I'm very busy," says the psychic. "Do you need help or not?"

I opt to take the silent route. Maybe she'll get bored and leave. I stare at the window and exhale a deep sigh.

"Don't ignore me or I'll probe your mind," she says.

Damn, outfoxed and I haven't even opened my mouth. I let out a groan. My body aches and cold tile doesn't help, so I scooch back onto the side of the comfortable bed. Adjusting my oversized gown, I wrap it tighter around my body to cover myself then look back at her.

She huffs effeminately, crossing her arms against her heart. "Paine, is it?"

"Nah." I smirk, still unsure if this is real. "Not since ya hooked me up with that good shit."

Clearly unamused, she enters the room scowling. Her hand seizes a clipboard from the door almost blown off its old hinges. Though she pretends to read the paper on it, her gold eyes fix on me rather than the medical records.

"Paine, Alvin. Age: twenty-four. Reason for treatment: Blunt trauma to the radial bone, compound fractures sustained. A previous injury to the area created complications during treatment. Surgical implantation of pins and proper reinforcement cast applied, sedatives prescribed to alleviate pain. Medication side effects include acute dizziness, increased risk of falling. Which leads me to my next question." With an authoritative tap on the wooden board and a cock of her head she scolds, "What are you doing out of bed?"

"Oh." I scratch the back of my neck. "Itching ta take a piss."

She's taken aback, a hint of red embarrassment warms her young face under her bangs. But then she glares taciturnly. "It isn't protocol for you to be up and about. There are strict rules in place for those recovering." Her arm gestures down the hall. "Sick patients recuperate faster when others aren't making a commotion."

"Ain't protocol?" I can't help but laugh, struggling to maintain eye contact with this strange psychic masquerading as a nurse. "Don't give me that. You're one of them freaks—whose power just about blew the door through the wall!"

By the way she rears forward like a charging animal, I can tell I hit a nerve. "I thought something happened. It's my duty to help those at this clinic." She's articulating every word in a tone conveying her charged—yet remarkably curbed—feelings, which makes it sound more like a threat than the suggestion of philanthropy.

"Easy, easy." I raise my hand up in a gesture of sincere intent. "Might not have the finest vernacular—I say what's on my mind. Speaking of, how're you able to, y'know…say stuff?"

"My ability is based on a set of vocal cords paired with a large brain." Her shoulders arch back, but that venomous glare in her eyes doesn't soften. She seriously looks as though she wants to kill me rather than treat me. Or sate my curiosity for that matter—teaching a monster to speak, that's an impressive feat.

"C'mon, cut me some slack," I say, rubbing my tender shoulder. "Can hardly wait to mosey outta here. Been cooped up here, uh—what's it been—a day or tw—"

"Ninety-seven hours, twenty-five minutes," she interrupts, eyes narrowing.

Realizing my sense of time is off as much as my balance, I lower my voice. "Uhh—shit—been that long?"

Pressing her lips together to show determination, she chirps, "Yes."

Wait, she's not even looking at the clipboard which would have that information. "You, um, got that time logged in my file?" I ask with a point.

She lowers the clipboard, holding its edge against her white uniform's hip, above her skirt. "I keep a record of all patients. You happen to be the one I was assigned to."

"Lucky me." I scoff. "Thought you were just some perverted fool's loose 'mon meandering 'round the floor."

"I'm a nurse. Your nurse." She emphasizes the latter with an elevated sense of duty.

"No way." My jaw goes slack. "You—a nurse? …Really?"

"What? Got a problem with that?" she mouths off, exposing her teeth.

Damn, she's got some sass. "Geez." I attempt to cross my arms but wind up only holding one on the limp other. "Leave me to those egg-luggin', giant pink blobs instead!"

"Sorry, you don't get a choice, patient." She shrugs. "It's too bad, I don't either."

Her wit is sharp too. Okay, so she's got a job in a clinic. That's news to me. And she can talk. That's news to anyone. "Hey," I say, "how do I know you work here if you ain't got a name?"

She turns her head. There's a whisper, but I can't make it out, she said it too soft.

"Say what?!" I almost shout.

Her body jumps. She hisses, "—Ette."

"Ette?" I repeat. "Okay. You told me how, but not why you're talking. So, why—?"

Nope, she doesn't reply. Simply tacks a sheet onto the foot of my bed and prances out the door, long hair with twin braids flopping against the back of her outfit.

I'm stupefied for a moment. Surely it must be the drugs. Drowsiness returns. I'll wake up and realize I've been daydreaming about a talking monster dressed up as a nurse. But then it hits me like a freight train: if it's just a dream, what did she drop at the foot of my bed?

Tucking the stone into my cast to free up my good hand, I pick up the sheet of paper. I'm surprised it feels quite real. Maybe I imagined the real nurse as something else? Anyway, what does this say?

"20,000.00." Wow, a whole family of unhappy zeroes are staring at me. My eyes squint in disbelief, maybe I'm reading that wrong. I pinch my leg and read the bill again, to no avail—it doesn't reduce. This time I focus on the words. "Unlicensed trainers are NOT INSURED for medical treatment from monster injury." It says in bold print letters.

Terror washes over me, pelting my already dampened spirit like icy rain.

"Unlicensed," I repeat. That part is true, never did get my license. Didn't see the need for it, considering how easy coming across some thrown-away ball is. Besides, being forced to register with crooked authorities? Pass. It's none of the League's damn business! However, what a bind my choices have me in. I curse my luck, the whole reason I got hurt to begin with is because I was trying to make some money.

Cold sweat gathers on my forehead, its awful clamminess drips and infiltrates my brow. My one remaining hand shakes violently as my calloused fingers crimple the edge of the invoice. "Fuck me. I can't pay this shit."

After I crumple the bill up, an overwhelming urge to escape takes over. In my gut, it feels awful to want to run away like a vagabond. Thing is, I can't work as an operator with one arm, and my savings are dry as a bone. This really sucks. That psychic nurse has my name. Even though I got no ID and it probably wasn't on the medical record, if I get away she'll tell the authorities. I'll have to change my name and appearance to complete my mission with the stone. But it'll all be worth it. The huge payout will make this bill look like nothing. Way I see it, it's chasing down a winning lotto ticket. So, really, running is the only viable option. Taking a slim chance is better than being certainly screwed with this expense.

Just then a bell starts ringing from down the hall. There's a great hustle of footsteps heading in that direction. An emergency code. Some sad soul is dying. Suddenly, in my heated delirium, a plan begins to morph. Thanks to the meds, it's more action first and plan on the way.

I spring from the bed and grasp the IV pole for support. Dizziness sets in fast, but determination offsets it. There's no window—save for the one in the ceiling—so sneaking by the commotion is my only option.

However, I'm all tied up. That won't do. Following a tug that nearly sends me falling over, I pry the medical apparatus off the wall. There's a heavy crash from the screen hitting the floor, but by then I'm a mere two steps from the door. As I cross the threshold, I shed the electrocardiography devices and dangling wires taped to my chest.

The commotion of doctors, nurses, and wailing echoes in the long hall. My sense of guilt for using someone's dying to get out of paying my bill is significantly dulled by a potent mixture of medication and survival instinct.

My back hugs the bleak white wall and I grasp the IV pole like a walking stick. Progress is slow and cautious, still getting used to using my body again. The alarms and bells of the emergency code provide ample distraction, the main halls are empty.

"Hey!" shouts a man's voice from one of the branching corridors.

I get whiplash from turning. There's a guy in scrubs and a surgical mask. Something tells me he's about to ruin my mission.

His finger accuses me with a point. "What the hell you doing?" he yells, his forehead reddening. "You're dragging your monitor screen!"

No wonder progress was so slow. But my heart is pounding very fast. Panic overtakes me, my vision shrinks. With my lance in hand, charging like Escavalier, I hurtle towards the chaos. The rush breaks me loose from the busted vitals monitor.

The angry surgeon jumps out of my way, diving into one of the rooms. My path is clear for now, but I can't deal with the whole clinic staff. Just hope no one else gets in the way.

Sure enough, as soon as I turn the next corner, one of those big pink blobs is waddling from the central workstation to the code. The creature halts, nearly dropping the egg out of her belly pouch as she sees me: the robed lunatic wielding his trident.

That look on her face is as vacant and void as the night sky. Almost as if my presence has broken something behind those beady eyes. Don't know what her plan is—can't think like these monsters—I do know one thing: my window of opportunity just shrunk. If she decides to fight, I'm going to be in for a rough time.

Charging forward, I point the tip at her stomach and say the first thing to pop in my head, "Outta the way unless ya wanna make my goddamn omelets!"

She blinks. Confusion from the code plus my proposition are too much. Her stubby legs give way and she cowers to the side of the hall whimpering.

Easier than I thought. Those eggs taste terrible anyway.

I run like hell down the hall, my sling smashing against my chest, my brain feeling every uncomfortable jolt. The hospital is built like a goddamn maze, but at least the corridors intersect at right angles. As I reach the exit, I see the heavenly light of the outdoors through large glass panes.

Just then I'm confronted by the security detail guarding the entrance. A freaking sumo wrestler—Hariyama, at least twice my size—blocks my path to freedom. It eyes me up, glaring crossly at my pike.

I weigh my options. Bubblegum blobs are one thing, but this guy's built like a huge wall. There's no way to get past the behemoth without a fight.

A receptionist girl behind the front desk shrieks, "Stop him!"

Suddenly he starts walking toward me. His huge gut jiggles with each earthshaking step. This isn't a fight to pick. Even if I wasn't injured it'd be a slaughter.

I dash and make decent distance due to how nimble I am compared to the bouncer. Hoping to find another exit or at least get my pursuer off my tail, I take the first turn at the main intersection.

And there she is again, the same psychic who didn't belong in the nurse outfit. I don't have time to stop and run straight into her, cast first.

The impact knocks us both down, but she's able to avoid being thrown on her back. She's visibly confused and looks wide-eyed at me. I expect her to scold me or simply wave her willowy arm and wipe my mind like in the movies. But no, she doesn't react or make a scene like I'd expect. No, she's not scared of me at all like the bubblegum blobs. Her lips part as she proffers a diminutive, "Oh, _you_ again."

Hearing the distant guard approach, I don't mince words. "I'm gettin' outta here."

For a second, she gives a cocky smile. "How'd you even get here? Not a moment ago you could barely stand."

That smirk of hers does a great job unnerving me. Tumbling to the side, I tightly grasp the steel pole once more and direct it straight at her heart. "Might not look it, but I'm on an important mission, so move."

She stares at me for what feels like an eternity, then defiantly replies, "No."

"Dammit, get outta my way!"

"You're afraid of something." She shakes her head, braids of hair bouncing on her shoulders. "What you're doing because of fear, it isn't right."

My face feels hot from anger. "Look, I need dosh to pay for this—" I tap the cast, which causes the trinket to fall out. "Shit!" I quickly dive to pick it up, but my hand is still holding my makeshift weapon, so she snatches it first with a frighteningly swift telekinesis. "What the—?!" But I can't even finish my sentence.

Her eyes suddenly illuminate with eerie phosphorescent light. She almost looks radioactive. Her hair billows up as if effected by a huge amount of static electricity. Then, as quickly as the strange aura appeared, it vanishes. She blinks at me; her gold eyes are positively radiating. In her most raw voice yet, she asks, "What—? What was that?"

"I don't fucking know!" I catch my breath. "I need it to finish a job, so give it back."

She wags her finger and tucks it in her uniform near her chest. "I don't think so."

I'm about to try and take it from her—vulgarity be damned—but Hariyama's approaching steps force me to huddle close to her. I hug my arm around her, placing her in front of my path like a shield. Her body feels warm, I can feel her heat through her clothes. She isn't shaking or anything. Meanwhile my fingers are trembling so much I have a death grip on the IV pole.

The bulky bodyguard raises his gigantic hands, halting his advance.

"Change of plans. Play along," I whisper. With the tip of the pole near her core, it's not difficult to angle it at her narrow neck. Then I yell at the beast, "She's my hostage! Let me go or she gets a lobotomy!"

There's a snicker next to my ear. What the hell's so funny? I want to ask, but the adrenaline in my veins is making my arm feel like gelatin and I need to focus.

Ette then murmurs, "The word you're looking for is tracheostomy." She drums her fingers on the stick and pushes it away effortlessly.

Crud. She's ruining my plan, making me look like a chump. I'm not actually about to stab her, but if she acts like my intimidation is bogus the guard will trounce me. What am I supposed to do? Can only hold her tighter.

The guard leans forward, looking for an opening. His brow furrows. His king-size hands quiver, hoping to pry her away the moment she leaves my grasp.

Feeling my opportunity slip away, I press close to ask in a muffled voice, "What's it gonna take to give me that back?"

"Why would I give it back to someone as scared as you?" she taunts.

She makes a good point; every ounce of my energy is going toward keeping myself from shriveling up in fear. This is further complicated since she can read my mind or something, use my inner workings against me. "C'mon," I grumble, poorly masking my desperation, "ain't it against protocol to steal from your patients?"

"After you tried to steal the clinic's services? Look at the trouble you've caused. Must be worth something." Her tone darkens. "I'll hold on to it."

"Gonna be worth a helluva lot more once I finish the job." My embellishments flow naturally, since I'm doing everything to reason with her. "Can't pay my debt without it. Whaddya expect me to do? How's a guy like me gonna work with a lame arm, huh? That stone's the only thing I got left, and you're about to take that away too. I'm gonna be frickin' helpless. Got any idea what that's like?"

Her icy demeanor momentarily thaws. Since she's so close it's easy to see how deep her strangely colored eyes are. Finally, she winks. "I'll hold YOU to it then."

"Me?" I blurt. "Not-uh, ya got it all wrong. Just give it back and—"

She cuts me off, placing her hand against the side of my head. "This could knock you out, better cover your other ear."

"Wha—?"

Without warning, she begins to hum an airy and harmonious song.

As soon as it begins, the air becomes heavy, as do my eyelids. Quickly my hand scrambles to muffle her melody.

Like magic, the behemoth in front of us takes a step back. Then another. Soon the junction is clear of its girth. He plops down on the floor with a crash, wearing a tired look on his face.

Ette exhales a weary sigh, her hand wilts from my head, she slumps against my broad shoulder.

"You can sing?" The shock of such an uptight personality having a voice like that leaves me frozen in place.

Her head turns, a large but soft ear poking my jawline. "Now's as good a time as any," she replies in a serious manner.

"No frickin' way." Clever ruse. She must be luring me into a false sense of security. In disbelief I squeeze her and ask, "Why?"

She shrugs, her lack of eye contact all too telling she's holding something back from me. "Better not be a wuss and change your mind."

"You work here," I say. "Aren't you gonna get in trouble?"

"I'm clearly in fear for my life—oh, so frightened—by such a terribly violent patient." Her sarcasm is truly over-the-top. She dances her digits in the air. "…Forget that was your little plan?"

I ponder for a moment. "True, but helping me get away—"

"—So you can pay back your debt," she finishes the sentence for me.

"Yeah, about that…" I pause, unsure how to break it to her I'm clueless how to go about that.

"Colette!" A man's gruff and stern voice from down the corridor exclaims, "Your song!"

I deliberately twist the inside of my elbow against her heart. This turns her. While I'm spinning us around, Ette mumbles something softly.

He's a tall physician, wearing a lab coat and stethoscope around his neck. His round glasses reflect the fluorescent lamps of the hall. He's physically fit, despite being middle-aged. A team of medical staff follow in the wake of his coat like he's some sort of army general.

"Your boss?" I ask.

She nods. "M— Doctor Reeves. Head of the clinic."

Figures, he's got a no-nonsense atmosphere to him, just like Ette. "Damn, if this isn't just peachy," I reply.

To my alarm, Doctor Reeves plucks a gold-plated ball from his belt, and winds up to toss it.

"Oh, shit, Doc's a trainer!" Whatever's in that ball sure isn't going to greet me with a hug.

Ette pinches me. It's now or never.

My good hand snatches the IV pole leaning against the wall from when Ette began her song. It feels lighter than before. Lining up a ridiculous shot, my lungs hold their air captive.

Just as the doc chucks his ball, I fling my javelin overhead. To my utter amazement, there's a cracking noise as the two objects sailing through the air manage to connect, the chances of which are beyond remote. I'm speechless, there's no way my unbalanced shot was that good.

A brilliant flash of light expands from their impact, followed by clanging aluminum echoing on tile. Suddenly all hell breaks loose. Overhead lights flicker then the fire alarm begins to howl. The sprinkler system starts to douse us.

Before I can react, she twirls out of my grasp and faces me. The shower causes her long hair to come undone. She's got this wry look on her face as the water drenches her skin, hair, and clothes.

"Well." Ette's head cocks toward the way out as droplets fall from her large ears down the side of her face. "What're you waiting for?"

"Oughta thank you, but still not sure what your angle is," I say, hurrying along.

My feet splash in puddles as I make the final sprint to my freedom. Through the pouring indoor rain, I see the brilliant bright sun awaiting me. My pace quickens, yet the big gown slows me down as it becomes increasingly soaked. I consider tossing it off, however, my arm sling prevents me. Finally, I reach the door. This isn't over yet. The police will arrive and the fire department too. There's no going back now. Going to have to run. And I don't even have shoes.

Slamming into the pane with a shoulder charge, my problems seem for a moment to be behind me. The light of the early afternoon sun sparkles over the vast northern wilderness of Rocaire. In the great distance, lush forests of green sprawl atop grand mountains only the wispy clouds will touch.


	2. Chapter 2: Preludes to a Path

Chapter 2: Preludes to a Path

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The brilliant light of midday sun bathes the landscape of trees in front of me, forming a path of amber above the green canopy.

Is this my road to the future?

Mid-stride, my legs freeze in awful trepidation.

What the hell? Move, dammit!

My vision blurs, the colorful orange mountains blur with the blue sky and cotton clouds. A late summer breeze blows through my hair. The dry mountain air, pines, flowers, the whole thing, it's all so natural. Wish I wasn't scared shitless of it.

This dread, it's internal. It's the one damn thing in this picturesque world I can't escape. Here I am, running from my problems again. Like goddamn clockwork. Only difference is this time I got lucky since Ette did her thing. That still doesn't make sense. Why would she help me escape? What's in it for her? And why do I care so much?

Concentrate! My cloudy vision sharpens when I raise my chin towards the wilderness. The indecisiveness dispels like morning fog on a windshield. I start to run.

Suddenly, there's a tightness in my chest. My parched throat gasps as I remember, "Shit, Ette's got my rock!"

Turning, there's the guard squeezing through the front door. The psychic nurse is nowhere to be seen, though she could easily be eclipsed by the sheer size of this fella.

"Damn, sumo woke up already?" I wheeze, wondering if somebody played one of those stupid, ear-grating flutes.

Thankfully he's slow. I steer myself through the courtyard, racing past the aghast faces of some of the healthier patients on a midday stroll. With only one working arm, my gait is tottering all the while.

Just then, beyond a manicured clearing, a flock of birds take wing from behind the brush. They fly close overhead, screeching loudly. The pounding sounds of the guard's heavy stride abruptly halts.

By making haste through the thicket, the guard is nowhere to be seen. However, dense branches tug at my robe, tearing it apart. At this rate, I'm gonna be ass-naked. There's a sound of a stream further through the woods. My determination is fading fast from stepping on too many sharp rocks with bare feet. The cast on my arm is killing me too.

After hauling my weary bones through the woods, a winding creek appears. My legs start to give way, but not before making it to the water.

For the first time in days I get a look at my reflection. The desperate man looking back at me blinks. To say I look like shit would be putting it too mildly. My hair's all unkempt, there's a prominent shadow from my facial hair, and my sunken eyes got these dark bags under them.

"Man—whadda fuckin' wreck," I groan.

The cool river water splashing on my face sure feels great though. I guide my hand down, tugging what's left of my tattered robe and sigh.

My stomach growls loudly. "Crud, didn't even think about food…" All that stress works up a huge appetite.

Scanning the river, there's the telltale sign of fishes. Their wakes are visible since the forest canopy is blocking the glare from the sun. However, it's not like I'm able to catch any. Nevertheless, the longer I look, the more my mouth salivates. Soon my lips are chapped.

Organizing a plan is my best bet to avoid getting caught or worse. Deep breaths. Okay. First, prioritize. Second, form a plan of action. Third, see it through.

My priorities are: food, clothes, and Ette. A vision of her wearing that arrogant smirk of hers shows up in my head. Wait…Ette? No. It isn't her I'm after, it's the damn stone she took. I splash my face with cold water to dispel the taunting mental image. The hell am I thinking? Snap outta it.

Okay, now that's taken care of, time to plan. Staying in the woods isn't going to work. If my memory's right, who knows if it is, there should be a town nearby. I think I passed through it before I took the mountain path. Still, after getting beat-up and sleeping for days, it's kind of fuzzy.

Following the river downstream, I spot an old stone bridge supporting a path. What a relief! Civilization!

My celebration is short-lived. From further along the road, there's the sound of leisurely moving hooves. I see the faint flames of a monster illuminate the ferns and trees. Ponyta. And the baritone tones of a man talking to someone.

Can't let them spot me.

My back leans close against the domed arch. Quietly I wait, like an ugly troll under the bridge.

Between the rhythmic clops, the older man speaks, his voice is thick and worn. "…Then you'll be old enough to take the town's challenge. With Pippa at your side, you're sure to reach the pinnacle of the mountain and make our whole family proud."

A young, androgynous voice answers him. "Nuh-uh, didn't you hear? There was a violent attack earlier this week. The path up the mountain's been closed."

My intrigue is piqued. Could they be talking about what happened to me?

"Really?" asks the old guy in a distressed tone. "How ominous. The sacred Path is guarded by the spirits of Rocaire."

"C'mon Grampa, you don't reeaaally believe those ghost stories they tell tourists visiting the region?" says the fledgling voice.

"Now, now," chides gramps, "our mountain's legend is one of the greatest treasures of Rocaire. The Path of the Ancients is not only Cortex's Trial, it's also the resting place of our Guardian sworn to protect us from harm."

"I'm not a kid anymore who believes in that stuff!" complains the youth. "Grr, I can't even take the Trial 'cos some idiot got hurt. Bet it was one of those trippers. It's their fault I can't take the Trial."

"Don't let the misfortunes of others bring your spirits down," answers the elder. "Be patient, and you'll see it one day too."

There's a pause, then the kid asks softly, "You ever seen the Path's Guardian, Grampa? Like, with your own eyes?"

"Oh, believe me, I've earned a glimpse," replies the senior. "The Great Guardians protect us all. Walking the Path provides an opportunity to one day meet such a blessing. But only those who complete Trials and grow strong alongside their partners in nature like the ancient walkers of the Path can work alongside the Great Guardians. One day, you and Pippa may too."

Suddenly there's a quarrelsome neighing from directly above. My breath freezes.

"Pippa—what's gotten into you?!" shouts the little voice at the braying mare. "Why's she acting like someone stole her oats, Grampa?"

"Whoa Nellie!" Grampa grumbles in a rough voice, "Something's got her spooked."

Yeah, probably me. There's labored tussling before the two of them get Pippa the Ponyta under control. However, she's still stomping her hooves directly above.

"Didja see something innawoods, Pippa?" The diminutive voice stammers, "L-Like a bear?"

"Easy, easy, girl—Hoo!—There, there, it's gon' be alright," insists the old-timer. "Here, now—"

There's the crisp snap of a carrot getting chomped, then Pippa's thrashing abates.

"Wow—Granpapa, that was amazing!"

"Monsters are more in tune with nature than us," explains the old guy. "Some reckon our senses ain't as good as theirs bec'ase we've forgotten our ancient roots in nature."

The kid coughs. "I think it's just 'cos she's got a better sniffer than you, pops!"

"Keeps prodding her hooves—she really don't like it here," concludes Grampa. "We oughta burn the breeze for Cortex."

"O-Okay—c'mon Pippa," squeaks the little voice. "I'm so sorry you're upset… I'll buy you lots of apples 'n treats in town. But you can't eat too many at once this time or you'll get the backdoor trots!"

The three of them continue over the bridge. Soon the only sound comes from the river.

"Phew…" I wipe the sweat from my brow. "Close. Too close."

After giving them a head-start, I follow their trail going into town. The chirping birds are my only company. As I walk, I keep thinking about the strange nurse from the clinic.

Eventually the familiar town greets me. It's not very large, I can see right where it starts and stops. There are dozens of open-air shops and saloons lining the main road. All the buildings have these wood façades, providing that characteristic western vibe of the frontier. Since the main street is full of activity, I veer around the shops and saloons, staying in the woods.

Around the second bar I pass, there's a large building with a newer design to it. It's not exactly what I'd call modern, but it stands out from the rest of the town. The large dome ceiling and outdoor training field tells me this is the place where trainers congregate. "Cortex Precept Center" it reads on an unilluminated sign.

There's a window slightly ajar near the back. After double checking to make sure no one is watching, I approach it. The window's a bit tough to pry open fully with only one arm, but I manage. Next, I roll myself in, being careful not to put pressure on my injury.

I find myself in a locker room. Perfect. Now to find some clothes and get out of this disgusting gown. Luckily, there's a clean set of clothes and boots my size in one of the closets. I dump the soiled hospital rags into the trash on my way to quickly wash in one of the shower stalls. Dry off, put on a cotton khaki shirt, trousers, throw on a coat, and feel ready to rock. On my way out I catch a glimpse of my cleaned-up self in the mirror. The tan linens, big brown belt, sturdy black boots, coupled with a chocolate leather jacket, together gives me that classic adventurer-decorum from a bygone era of explorers. It's a decent look for me.

Taking care of all that, I race toward the window.

"Howdy," says a guy's voice walking in from down the hall.

I freeze by the sill, then slowly turn around, expecting him to be whoever's on guard. Thankfully, he's got a cheery look on his face, with an open hand instead of a six shooter.

"Haven't met you," he says, "you must be that new guy from outta town."

I saunter toward him and shake his hand. He's younger than me, but not by a whole lot. A bit of a thin lad, he's wearing a casual outfit and a tan rancher hat. Of average-height with bronze skin, brown hair and green eyes.

"Alex," I say, crafting an easy alias. "Or Al, it's close enough."

"I'm Harrison. Been training for the Trial. Me and my posse are itchin' to walk the Path of the Ancients and take the trail up the mountain." He gestures to his belt holster holding three balls.

"Nice." I cough anxiously. This is a dangerous situation, he's a trainer and I'm defenseless.

"Heya, let's be pals," suggests Harrison. "Since the Path's closed, we can train our 'mons together. That way they'll be ready to kick ass on the mountain!"

"Sure," I say. My mind races for a rationale as to what I'm doing in a Precept Center without a single 'mon.

"So, didja challenge Cortex yet?" asks Harrison.

That confuses me. "Isn't Cortex the name of the town?"

Harrison bursts into a bighearted laugh. "Man, I can tell you're not from 'round here!"

I play it cool while conjuring an excuse. "You got me, I'm from Orre."

"No way!" He grins. "A stone's throw to the southwest. Hot as Hell there. But, wow, you hardly got a tan!"

Guess that's true. Should have thought harder on my alibi. Being injured in the hospital several days sure has made me pale.

"Anyyyway, welcome to Rocaire," he says awkwardly, "this is probably confusing to an 'Orreo', but the leader of the town, our mayor, is given the title of the town, Cortex."

"Thanks." I feel a wave of relief.

"Since you're new, I'll give you the 4-1-1. Rocaire is a lot like Orre—won't find fancy Gyms the way you would in congested regions – at least not yet. We got 'Home Rules' which means towns like this one got a lotta say in self-governing. Has to do with living on the frontier, and the nature of Trials along the Path of the Ancients being an individual journey. Though, many can't do it alone. With the New League, seems like more people than ever are giving it a try, but there's no doubt their vision's different from the Ancient's traditions."

I consider the New League's encroachment on Rocaire's traditions. "Training in stuffy Gyms, collecting cheap aluminum badges, remembering rulebooks the size of a legal treatise; those modern ways of training monsters don't exactly fit with Walking the Path of the Ancients, huh?"

"You said it, Al. Walking the Path once you're of age and of mental fortitude is a sacred practice here in Rocaire, as old as the Sacred Land itself. Pathwalkers from ancient times would bond with the powerful monsters inhabiting the territory and become in tune with nature." Glancing to the sunlit window, Harrison furrows his brow. "Things haven't been the same since the Great War. The New League advertises its take on the Old Ways as an improvement, more accessible, and modern. The Ambassador Program doesn't help either."

Yeah. It doesn't. However, I bite my tongue.

"Oh, you're probably wondering what that is," says Harrison. "Y'see, the Great War hit our region especially hard, disrupted our traditions since most able-bodied trainers were drafted. Cause of that, there's fewer walkers of the Path than ever before. The metropolitan capital of Dezear, where the New League HQ is, has been reaching out to trainers from other Leagues to take on Precept Centers being built throughout Rocaire. The goal of those trainers brought in by the Ambassador Program is to help the New Rocaire League establish official Gyms based on their reports and traffic. Problem is, building a League this way skips right over the whole idea of the Ancient Path—focuses on convenience above all else. Precept Centers in towns where the Trials are held is one thing, 'cos they're where people have lived since times of the Ancients, but turning sacred sites of the Great Guardians, the Vortexes, into tourist stops isn't right! That's not what the Path or Rocaire is about. Hell, those trippers aren't even from around here…!" Harrison, clearly frustrated by matters beyond his control, shakes his head. "…Sorry, no offense to you, Al. You seem like a decent enough guy."

"Naw, I get where you're coming from, all that shit's at odds with the ancient tradition of walking the Path," I surmise. "A new movement takes advantage of societal changes, muscles in to replace it with its own version of the future."

"Cortex is doing a good job of keeping the New League at a distance and focusing on our community," says Harrison. "He's here every day, building up a crew of trainers to take on the Path together with him. He knows his efforts alone won't stop the League from overhauling other places in the region, that's why he's going to Walk the Path and show them what it really means."

"Still, Leagues got a lot of power at their fingertips to change things," I answer. "Technology connecting everyone, the PC transfer systems, GPS, it's all fascinating stuff. But things like mandatory 'mon registrations, pushed by Leagues as they spread across the continent is a power-grab at best, and, at worst, authoritarian."

"Registration and licensing s'pposed to prevent monster abuse, which is a big problem." Harrison remains skeptical. "They say during the war it got way outta control. That's the League's reason for requiring it, they even give incentives to businesses to encourage compliance."

That inflated bill Ette presented me with at the hospital is a bitter reminder of non-compliance. "It's a good cause, monster abusers are scum," I respond. "However, you've probably never abused your 'mons in your life, and the League's treating you like you're already guilty of someone else's crime by coercing you to register like an offender."

He frowns. "If there's nothing to hide, what's the big deal?"

"It's none of their business. Just b'cause everyone's got potential to do something rotten doesn't mean you gotta give up your rights. Lotta people don't even wanna argue with losing their privacy, afraid they might be flagged as people who'd do those terrible things." I sigh. "Truth is there's always gonna be bad people in the world. Giving all this power to an exclusive group like a League doesn't stop bad people, it gives 'em an opportunity to be in total control."

Harrison wonders. "Y'think the Leagues are up to no good?"

"I doubt it." It's difficult for me to peg what are essentially modern trainer guilds as genuinely nefarious organizations. "Leagues who get too big for their britches though, they're what I like to call the nanny state. Good intentions, poor implementation. They act as though they've got everyone's best interest in mind."

I can tell he's in deep thought by the way he keeps looking out that window at the big blue sky. "That sounds worse," he finally says. "Cos they got justification to say it's for your own good even if it makes things worse."

"Certainly possible, man." I steer away from the weighty issue. "So, you've been in Rocaire your whole life? Is that how you got interested in the Path?"

"Yup. Wouldn't trade it for the world. See, towns in Rocaire got their own tourneys and challenges—called Trials—at the sites of ancient ceremonies for testing people's mettle alongside their 'mons which help them grow their bond."

"Their bond?"

"The Ancients claimed it's a sort of spiritual strength you share with your buddies," he explains. "Some people can discern it, like a kind of aura you feel. And if you fully walk the Path just like the Ancients did, then you'll get the ability to see those bonds from the Great Guardians as a gift."

"Sounds neat." I cross my arms. "Then why aren't people signing up in droves to do something cool like that?"

He frowns. "It ain't easy, that's why."

"Figures."

"Completing Trials earn the Pathwalker trophies, each one's a unique piece of equipment supposed to make the journey easier. Let's see, there's the Compass, the Cloth, the Cap, and the Blade. From Cortex, Chenare, Pryleo, and Belkridge."

I make mental note of these trophies Pathwalkers gather and the places they're found. "So one's right here in Cortex. Just my luck."

"But that's not the only thing a Pathwalker's gotta do," cautions Harrison. "There are three Summits in Rocaire: The Sun, The Moon, and The Sky. These places were called Vortexes by the Ancients. All three places of power impart a sort of vestige – or trace the Great Guardians can sense – on the Pathwalker, that's key to completing the Path. It's got something to do with the geographic points forming a giant triangle in the region between the arid Savage Lands, the cold Frost Lands, and the windy Great Plains. A Pathwalker's gotta endure it all alongside his friends or the bond won't be strong enough for the Great Guardians to recognize."

I raise my brow skeptically.

"Venturing alongside monsters, taking on Trials, walking the Path." Harrison grins like he's fantasizing. "All to become strong enough to work with the Great Guardians protecting Rocaire! I guess we got it a little easier though with technology. But think of the history, all the people who walked the Path over so many years! That's so much cooler than being a trainer chasing boring League badges, amirite?"

I wouldn't know. I'm not a real trainer. Just an imposter. But ever since I put on these clothes, I've been acting like one. Why? What the hell's wrong with me? I feel uncomfortably warm, like all my fabrications have possessed the fabric I'm wearing. My lies are surrounding me, closing in around me, suffocating me. What's with this awful feeling?

Harrison notices my writhing. "How'd you hurt your arm?" he asks.

The whole room feels like it's swaying around me. Must be the drugs lingering in my body. Yeah, that's gotta be it. By leaning on a table I steady myself. "Wild 'mon." I cough dryly.

Color drains from his face. "Shit. For real?"

"Yep." I try to recall Ette's summary of my injuries. Can remember her voice so clearly, just not what she actually said to me. "Bastard took a piece of me."

"Damn." He shakes his head. "What about your pals? Couldn't they help?"

My mind goes blank. Harrison, the locker room, my own thoughts, all of them fade away. All I see is uniform, endless, whiteness. The inexorable sensation of nothingness, I don't know how long it lasts.

"Hey!" A voice cuts through the void. "Al! Hey, Alex! You okay, man?"

Who's Alex?

Suddenly I come back to my body, dry eyes and a tapestry of color in front of me.

"Alex, c'mon man, you're spacing out. You feel alright?"

Oh, that's right, he's talking to me. I'm Alex, the fake trainer. I open my mouth, but I'm hollow inside, no words leave my throat. Just an arid gasp.

Harrison's quiet, might be thinking my friends didn't make it. It would explain why I don't have a single capture ball. Let him think whatever he wants.

I manage to break the silence. "—That challenge you mentioned, the one with Cortex, what's it involve?"

"Well," he says with a more watchful expression, "the challenge is to win against Cortex and then the Trial is climbing the Mountain in Shadow."

"Huh." That matches up with what the kid and his grandfather were talking about. "You challenged him?"

"Yeah, that's the easy part – only gimmick is you gotta use his own 'mons in the fight." Harrison crosses his hands behind his neck. "Means they get battle experience while your guys are left high and dry. It also forces people to train with each other here at the Precept Center before they make their climbing attempt. The journey up the mountain isn't easy. Someone got really hurt on their way up there recently, so the trail's been closed."

"Ouch." Can't believe I'm grumbling at my own calamity. Or maybe that's my stomach grumbling. "That sucks."

"Hey, I got an idea, let's grab something to eat and get you signed up for a challenge," urges Harrison. "I wanna see your coaching skills in action!"

"Shit, I'm not up for a battle." But the promise of food is beyond tempting.

"C'mon, it'll be cake. And it'll be helpful for your training!"

Did he really have to say the word cake? Oh God, now my stomach is growling like crazy. "If I'm gonna take on the challenge at least get me something to eat first."

"Nervous?" he asks with a laugh.

"No way, just starving." It's half-true at least.

I follow him through the indoor training facilities, until we reach a mess hall. "Plenty of leftover food in the cafeteria from lunch! But you gotta swear to put on a good show for everyone."

I hurry to fix myself a sizable platter of meats and greens. The burger is delicious and juicy. And the veggies are fresh and satisfying as well. It all goes down the hatch as fast as possible. I wash it all down with two big cups of water. And then I go again for a second. Round two manages to fill me up.

"Damn!" exclaims Harrison. "No wonder you were spacing out before. Feel more alive?"

My head nods as I pant, "That…was the most amazing leftovers ever."

"No kiddin'. Not gonna take a nap are ya?" he jokes.

"Nah." Except I would if I wasn't so anxious about what's next.

"Good stuff. Alright, c'mon." Harrison leads me down a hallway to a door that opens to the open-air arena. There are a group of people training their 'mons on the various track and field utilities. My guide raises his lanky arms up and proclaims, "We've got a new challenger, Alex from Orre!"

Those training noisily gather around the center battlefield. Even though it's a small crowd, I'm afraid someone might recognize me from the clinic. What do I do then? Ette isn't around to bail me out. Why did she even do that anyway?

Damn nerves. Need to focus just to keep my legs from shaking. But it's not me, something else is causing the quaking. The heavy stomps are coming from a battle-scarred biped with rock armor plates.

"…Rhydon." My mouth says its name as it lumbers across the battlefield, to the cheers of many. The beast's massive, about the size of an RV.

Crushing small rocks under its hefty weight, it stomps toward me. Once it reaches the perimeter marked in the dirt it lets out an incredible roar and spins its drill horn like a dentist ready to work.

The arena erupts into applause. Beyond the behemoth, on the other side of the field, comes a tall man with straight black hair reaching to his shoulders and a stately mustache. He's wearing western attire and a ten-gallon hat. Must be Cortex.

"Alright, you'll get pitted against two." Harrison points to the arena and enthusiastically gives a thumbs up. "Good luck, Al!"

"Wait…Rhydon is MY guy?!" I exclaim.

The beast grunts, ejecting a jet of steam from its snout. I can tell it's pissed off. Hell, I'd be mad too if someone as sad as me had to be my battle coach.

"Actually, she's a girl." In a commanding voice that carries over the cheers of the growing crowd, the dark-haired Cortex addresses me from the other side of the field. "The dimorphism is slight, note how her horn is short and stout."

Never been close enough to one of these giants to actually notice that. She turns her back before I can get a good look. Will she really listen to me? Under my breath I begrudge, "I'm not her trainer, we got no connection—"

Two flashes of light shine across the field. Suddenly a hunchback ice pig and an angry fire monkey are flanking my rock rhino.

"It's Piloswine and Darmanitan!" shouts someone from the crowd. "Those are his other two strongest!"

Cortex doesn't even hesitate to engage. "Pincer movement! Ice Shard! Fire Punch!"

The hefty swine lobs huge chunks of ice blown from between its tusks. Frozen bricks assail my beast, chipping at her hide in a barrage of rough blows. Fortunately, she's smart—tucks her arms in as shields to brace her vitals from the attack.

But then from the other side the ape's burning eyebrows form a massive fireball above its head. It winds up a big swing, punching the ball straight at her. The ensuing burst of flame breaks her guard, allowing for more of the pig's ice missiles to land on her vulnerable hide.

Well, shit, what do I do? They've practiced this strategy before, they're completely prepared and coordinated so that they don't take friendly fire. The ice pig is more of a threat to my girl, the monkey's more of an annoyance, but together they're a tough force. However, their pincer formation has a flaw, since their forces are divided, it can be exploited by a focused attack. Luckily, I've seen some competitive battles and know the ultimate, ass-kicking move for the job.

"Break their formation further apart with Outrage!" I leave it up to her, so she'll get the drop on her target.

She snorts, then starts glowing orange; her rock-clad body radiates with power and might. Accompanying a vicious roar, she charges at the swine, sailing across the arena like a comet, leaving a scorching energy in her wake. Makes me wish I'd brought shades.

"Underground!" reminds Cortex.

By recalling the third dimension of the field, depth, the swine manages to escape the rock-clad beast by a split-second.

"I've never seen him burrow so fast—!" exclaims Harrison from the stands. I quickly glance at him, expecting some valuable guidance or insight to follow. "—Only for his favorite truffles!"

"Truffles? Are you frickin' kidding me?" What the hell, man! The pig's favorite mushrooms isn't the type of battle advice I need!

Turning back to my girl, she's been set off-balance from whiffing, but still has plenty of steam. She's energetically scouring the uneven terrain, searching for where the pig's hiding.

"Boost your power while she's distracted!" says Cortex.

Darmanitan smashes its gut with a shining paw, like a desperate stab. The force from the self-inflicted blow causes its bushy fire eyebrows to scorch in high arches above its squat body, like lava plumes from a volcano. It squeals loudly and its overly animated face distresses. Then it gulps down on a creamy berry held in its other hand.

What the fuck's it doing attacking itself? Something stinks about this. The pig disappeared, and it'll strike my girl if she goes after the burning sasquatch. However, 'mons injuring themselves never lead to good outcomes. Worth the risk to put an end to the threat, then she can go one-on-one with the other 'mon.

Rhydon is scanning for Piloswine, but at the same time Darmanitan is boosting its power, if she doesn't act now all her defense will mean nothing.

"It's weakened," I tell her, "give it hell with a tantrum!"

The juggernaut stomps through the debris at the other 'mon, then swings her huge rock arms forward to spring high into the air like a gymnast. A gymnast weighing a ton. Her stomping tantrum slam hits like a fiery meteor—the explosion covers the arena with a brilliant flash. The crowd goes nuts.

While she's getting applause, the monkey rolls out like a ball from below her, its fur transforms from a bushy red to smooth blue. Its eyes go vacant, as if in a deep trance.

Piloswine bursts out from the earth from my 'mon's blindside, slamming into her with an incredible force and toppling her prone. The crowd hushes in suspense.

"Crud!" I shout. "C'mon, roll to the left and use your tail to counter!"

She's able to crawl, but the swine's relentless. The woolly monster keeps nailing her back with icicle spears. Her heavy tail swats some of the projectiles away, but it's too slow to deflect them all. Each one that gets through her defense bites deeper into her rock hide. Frost is beginning to form on her body's shell, adding further torpor to her movements.

"Shit, this isn't looking good, we gotta go on the offensive before it's too late!" There's one thing her adversary is dangerously close to while she's on the ground. "Give it the drill!" I roar.

Rhydon spins around, flicking her long tail high into the air as she circles the swine on all fours. She thunders toward it, her drill spinning wildly. The flung chunks of ice shatter over her horn into diamond dust as she approaches.

"Flak attack, Mud Bomb!" yells Cortex.

A balloon of wet soil splatters on her spinning horn, spraying her in the eyes. She misses her target by mere inches.

"Dammit—pull back to the right and get that gunk outta your eyes!"

"And now set her off balance with Ancient Power!" yells my opponent.

While she manages to wipe away the mud from her face, she's unable to avoid the bludgeoning stones. The rocks smash against her back, crumbling as they do, the attack did not do much damage. However, Piloswine is aglow with a strange power. It's going to follow up with a stronger strike! It dashes straight toward her, with tusks empowered by ice and unprecedented speed.

"Swing for the fences!" I shout. "Use your tail to whale it away!"

She swings her whole body to build momentum. Her strike connects with the lurid cracking of a baseball bat. Rhydon follows through magnificently and gets to her feet. There's whistling in the crowd as the fuzzy monster is sent sailing across the arena. The spinning beast smashes into a pile of rocks near Cortex. However, it's still got strength to blow a cloud of frost from its snout.

Rhydon is spent, her breaths are labored. Her heavy tail smashes the ground hard. She hasn't been in this situation before. Hasn't been pushed to these limits. I could say the same for Piloswine. They're both giving their all.

"Time to finish this!" Cortex reassures, "You know what to do, just like we practiced! Earthquake!"

Was afraid of that. I don't think she can tank it. Her arms and legs instinctively start to bend inward in an attempt to endure the hit. But I tell her, "No! Don't resort to your habits! Hit 'em back with the same move! Full power, Rhydon! You can do this!"

The two beasts simultaneously unleash their devastating moves. One pounds the ground with her fists, the other leaps and smashes with a ground-pound. The entire arena shakes violently as the shockwaves merge. My body rattles and I nearly fall over.

On the other side of the arena, the monkey in stasis is tossed high up from riding the rippling waves. It smashes next to its winded partner, who is glowing with white light. Piloswine's flash smothers the whole arena in dazzling radiance. I shield my eyes.

When the light dissipates, there's a new monster in its place. A really big one. It's almost the size of Rhydon. The woolly beast shakes its shaggy fur and roars to thunderous applause.

"That's enough!" exclaims Cortex. "The battle is over, I concede to our challenger, Alex of Orre!"

Rhydon throws her fists in the air to celebrate. She bounces over to her fellow monsters, rubbing her cheek against Mamoswine. Even the frozen monkey thaws and leaps up into the air between them. The three monsters huddle together in a victorious pose.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to stop myself from bawling over the win. That incredible feeling that came over me while we were battling, what the hell was it?

"Woohoo! You did it, Al!" yells Harrison from the sideline. "That was amazing! They fought so hard one of them evolved on the spot!"

Sure, it feels good, but this was my best chance to score food and clothes. And really, the more I think about it, it's clearly her victory. She's the star, the one everyone's cheering for. I'm just the busted-down guy who got thrown into an acting role as her coach at the Precept Center.

"Way to do it to it, Rhydon," I say softly as the crowd of spectators begin to disperse.

From the corner of my eye, a familiar figure flows through the bleachers way in the back. Her copious green hair is unmistakable.

No way! That's her! It's Ette!


	3. Chapter 3: Fortunate Reunions

Chapter 3: Fortunate Reunions

«=======================================================================================»

My mind's all a jumbled mess. What's Ette doing here?

Figure she's stalking me. That's right, I'm stuck with a huge debt. Sending some dainty nurse after me as an enforcer doesn't seem right though.

While I'm gathering my thoughts, coming off my high from the battle's rush, Ette's exceptionally good at vanishing into the dispersing crowd.

Shit! I better chase her down and get my artifact back.

I'm about to charge after her, when Cortex stops me. His imposing voice congratulates me, and he tells me I'm off to a good start, yada, yada. It's incredibly difficult to concentrate after seeing her right there.

Harrison's voice chimes in as well. He's going on about 'Orreos' again.

"—Thanks, I need to be going," I tell them.

"What about the Path of the Ancients?" blurts Harrison.

"Later," I say.

"Hold on just a sec," says Cortex. He's daunting with those dark features wearing a classic high crown and wide brim ten-gallon hat. "You're no rookie trainer, Alex. That battle pushed my friends to their limits. That energy—the way you were able to coach them in a new way—gave Piloswine the strength to evolve, I'm positive."

"Was easier with someone else's 'mons at stake." Not wanting to be a complete dick, I backtrack my brash statement. "Listen, I'm sure the other trainers also helped by taking the challenge. Trained 'em up to this point, right?"

"The connection between human and monster, that's a bond that grows with time. However, seeing things differently, trying a new strategy, all that leads to growth because it's not the status quo, not the way we've been training." Cortex rubs his mustache. It's difficult to read what's going on inside the leader's head. Feels like he's judging me. Since we're a lot closer than we were on the battlefield, it would seem easier this way, but really, it's the opposite.

"Sorry, I gotta go, there's someone I gotta see."

Harrison gives me an elbow prod. "Ooh, you got a date?"

"Hell no!" I almost shout. But that only makes it sound worse. "It's not like that at all. She—It can wait."

"Called it," he snickers.

"Shaddap."

Cortex bursts into a big laugh. "Alex, you're an interesting fella."

"Al's new here," explains Harrison on my behalf. "He's taken to Rocaire, 'cos—" the young man looks at me expectantly.

"I wanna become stronger." An unassuming response, but one which rings true in my heart. "It's that simple."

Cortex smiles. "I'd like to have you on my team to investigate what happened on the Path."

"Oh man, that's one hell of an offer, Al!" exclaims Harrison.

"Pass."

"What?" says Harrison in disbelief. "Yo, this is a big opportunity to advance in your training."

Cortex gazes silently at my wounded arm.

"You heard me," I growl, hugging my limp appendage tight to my chest.

"If it's true strength you seek, that strength comes from within," says Cortex with a stern glare.

"Dang, thought we could all check out the Path together," grumbles Harrison.

"Don't let me stop you," I say.

"He's right," replies Cortex, "Harrison, you come along. We'll investigate what occurred on the Path together."

"R-Really?" He stammers happily. "That'd be awesome! I always wanted to walk the Path. Then I'll be able to become a better trainer, I've never been more sure it's my destiny!"

"'Everyone walks their own Path, yet those who seek only Destiny know not where it leads'," I reply. Can't remember exactly where I heard it, but it sounds familiar and poignant all the same.

From below the brim of his hat, Cortex's eyes go wide. "I see. There is…truth to those words," he says enigmatically. Then, his hand reaches under his poncho and produces a pendant resembling a pocket watch. One of the sides is a smooth mirror which reflects the sun. He holds the piece out to me, revealing its non-reflective side contains a compass. "Take it, as proof of this day. May it help you walk your Path, as our Ancients once did."

"No way!" exclaims Harrison. "That's one of the Trial trophies…which means Al must've—!"

Wordlessly, I take the trinket. It's quite light, yet strong, like titanium. Not only is it a signal mirror, but a high-quality compass. On the outer rim of the side containing the needle, a sumptuous script spells the name Cortex.

Without so much of a farewell, Cortex turns back to his monsters and walks off.

Was it something I said? How come he gave me the compass? Didn't Harrison also finish the Trial by winning the battle? What makes us any different? Why'd Cortex reward me?

"Al." Harrison looks just as confused. "Where'dya hear what you said to Cortex?"

"I'unno, sorta came to mind." I shrug. "Anyway, oughta be going as well."

"Oh, wait! Before I forget! Here's my trainer card. In case ya run into any trouble out in Rocaire." Harrison takes out one of those newer flat phones. He taps its surface and loads an application with his info on it.

It's second nature to me, my hand digs into my pocket without thinking, and my digits locate a phone. As I remove it, I realize my obvious mistake—this phone can't be mine. Not a big deal, I'll just pretend to be the previous owner of this cell. Just hope whoever he is doesn't look like a chump.

Then my eyes see it. A familiar old flip—with a fading, orange shell. Once was red, before the sun got to it. Still has the fang marks etched into the side from that one time too. I snap it open, and a familiar screen greets me.

"…!"

My blood turns cold inside as I look at the screen. This isn't my mine, is it? No, couldn't be. How did it get here? I start to feel lightheaded.

"What's wrong with your phone?" asks Harrison.

I swiftly clap it shut. What is this sick feeling in my head? How is this possible? It doesn't add up at all. I feel dizzy. This is all so wrong.

"You need to charge it?" Harrison wonders.

"Yeah." I gulp. "There's just no way…No way this could be…"

"Aw, shit luck," he interrupts, "that's an old model you got there. Borderline vintage. Don't think my charger will work."

How could this be mine? Every thought in my head tells me it must be a replica. But a replica with THAT on the home screen? The odds of finding it buried in these clothes from the Precept locker room are far too remote to consider it mere happenstance. Am I losing my mind? What if… "That psychic's playing games with me!" I declare.

Harrison jumps back. "Whoa, what? A psychic? Where?"

"Never mind. I'll get your info another time at the Center. This is an emergency."

"An emergency?" Harrison shakes his head. "Dang, well, good luck. If it's a psychic who's foolin' you, better pack a dark type."

I don't have one of those. I don't have any monsters. But that doesn't matter. If what I think happened, happened, then Ette is extremely dangerous. Hastily I breeze by Harrison toward where she was during the challenge.

Where'd she go?

The onlookers of the fight have gone back to training their monsters. There's an alcove under to the bleachers, somewhere an observer might hide. To my dismay there's nothing here. Turning around in the dim recess, the corner of my eye spots a moving shadow. There's no way a human-size Ette could easily fit here, yet that's where I saw it.

"The hell is goin' on—?" Something invisible bumps my shoulder. "Oof! What just shoved me?"

There's a laugh, a very strange and high-pitched one. The phone in my pocket begins to vibrate as though I've received a message. But the message will have to wait.

"Show yourself!" I command.

Again, laughter, but this time it's from deeper under the bleachers. It's starting to spook me.

I growl, raising my fist. "Where're you?!"

The snickering persists, louder than before.

I've had it with this. "Motherfucker, quit hiding, or I'm gonna find ya 'n rip you a new one!"

The laughter stops.

"That's right…" I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. "So, where're you?"

From the deepest abyss in the murk, I see a faint flickering light. Could easily be mistaken for a mirage, but I'm on full alert and know it's out of the ordinary. With little to lose I saunter over to the light. The area under the bleachers is so cramped, I need to hunch over. Almost to the point of crawling, I finally see the source of illumination.

A small ghostly candle, who's light flickers ominously as I look at it. I shake my head and state the obvious. "You're not Ette."

The little creature bobs its body, rivers of what I assume to be wax collect in a circle near its crown beneath the flame.

"For a ghost, you're not very scary."

Its flame rises as it pouts.

"Geez, why're you spooking people?" I ask. "You some lost soul with nothin' better to do?"

It uses its stubby wax arms to cast shadows on the floor beneath its head's light source.

"You tryin' ta tell me something?"

It bows its head, placing its hands close. Next, there are two prominent shadows. They come together, then split apart. Again and again. Its flame is also flickering three times the speed of its hand motions.

Holy cow, the little ghost is trying to tell me something in code! It just keeps repeating it. But what's it mean?

"Hmm, what're you saying…binary." I scratch my chin. "1-1-1-2-2-2-1-1-1…"

If the two shadows spread apart means a long gap, like as dash, and the one unified shadow is a single dot, then it's repeating S-O-S, S-O-S.

"No way, is that Morse code? You're in trouble?" I ask.

It appears to understand, and nods vigorously.

"Geez, this is nuts, first a talking psychic now a candle using Morse." I rub my temple. "What's this about and why're you hiding under the arena?"

The creature puffs out its cheeks, hot bubbles of wax, in vexation.

"Oh, guess you'll only answer one thing at a time—can't ask compound questions."

It wobbles back and forth, approaching me and leaving a trail of candlewax in its wake.

"Whoa!" I back up, banging my head against one of the low beams. "Ow!"

Litwick snickers in response. It gestures to me expectantly.

"What? You wanna come along?"

Using the shadow-communication, it goes "2-1-2-2." That's the letter Y, between each hand motion it uses the flame on its head to emphasize the change, which helps in the case of repeating signals. Litwick sends a puff of smoke into the air, then motions "1." Letter E, simple enough, I think I know what it's spelling. Another plume of smoke and it does the original hands together, three busts of flame "1-1-1" which of course is S.

Well, this is awkward. Not being a trainer means no capture balls. Still, not about to leave this interesting 'mon out to dry.

I decide to scoop up the candle. It's so light, must be made out of ectoplasm, can hardly feel the thing as I cradle it in my good arm.

My new friend lets out a big yawn. Then its stubby hands point to the edge of the bleachers not facing the arena, on the other side of the training field. I don't see Ette anywhere. She must have gotten away.

"Alright, but I dunno how I can be much help." After bringing it there, I spot the problem. "A swimming pool?"

The creature keeps pointing to the water. It then shivers.

"Relax. I ain't gonna dunk ya in," I growl. "What's the deal?"

It keeps directing me there, like a demanding kid.

"Hey, you tryin' to prank me? 'Cos then I'd have a good reason to dunk ya."

It shudders, its flame dimming significantly. Both its appendages form the motion of diving down.

"Ugh, you seriously lost something in the bottom of the training pool?"

It nods again and again.

Once we get to the water, there's something glimmering at the bottom in the deepest part of the training pool. It almost looks like that rock Ette took from me!

"Naw way, man," I mutter to the candle. "How you reckon I'm 'sposed to swim to the bottom of the deep end with one bum arm?"

Litwick blows a waxy bubble and yawns.

"Pff, alright, I won't be a lazy ass like you. C'mon. Let's see what we can do."

I plop the candle down by the edge and strip down to my trunks. Tough as nails to move clothes around with only one functioning arm, but I manage. Getting into the water sends shivers along my spine. "Brrr…C-Cold…" Just as I'm about to submerge, something splashes me.

It's a big blue duck. Its webbed feet toss water in my direction as it swims in the shallows nearby. By clapping its bill open and shut and makes a laughing noise that sounds like honking.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" I shout.

Golduck continues to swim circles around me, splashing more and more.

Enough with this guy. I take a deep breath and go for it.

My target's easy to spot through the clear water, caught near one of the drains.

However, the monster in the pool dashes for it.

Dammit! My swimming is truly awful with only one arm. Barely manage to make it a third of the way before the duck snatches it.

Surfacing, I call out, "Give that back!"

Golduck begins tossing it into the air like it's a freaking beachball.

"Yo, whatcha doing in the monster pool?" asks someone.

Monster pool? "Ohhh…ugh, I…" Can't think of what to say. There's a gathering crowd of trainers and their monsters looking at me. This is embarrassing. Especially after that win against Cortex. "Ha, ha. Just playing with this guy." Standing in shallow water, my good arm goes up. "Here, pass it here! Show me what you got, duck!"

Golduck gives a perplexed glance.

"No, throw it here!" says a guy in a bathing suit from out of the pool with both hands up to receive it.

Winding up, the duck looks like it's about to toss it to the guy with a better chance of catching it—not me. The monster honks and lobs the rock in a high arc way over my head.

However, after the beast chucks it, a big white bubble swiftly floating through the air intercepts the pass. Everyone turns to where it came from.

Litwick is there using a jet of heat to move the orb of wax. The bubble pops overhead and sends the rock falling right into my outstretched hand.

"Score!" I cheer to my buddy.

Golduck splashes me angrily. Content with the victory, I laugh it off, and wade out of the pool. Taking a good look at my prize, it's not the same rock as before. In fact, it looks more like a blackened pine cone of some sort. Needing to dry off and garb myself, I set it down next to the candle.

While donning my shirt, there's a great roar of flame, which instantly evaporates the water from my skin. To my amazement, the candle is eating the piece of wood. Its flame is burning much brighter, almost like a torch.

"Whew." I gasp. "So that's why you wanted that. What is it, charcoal?"

The little guy continues to munch on it, its flame sparkling brightly.

"Hey, that was a cool move. Might wanna keep 'em in a ball though," suggests the guy from before with Golduck. "Could get splashed and that'd be no good for its flame."

No shit, Sherlock. Don't have any, I'm not a real trainer. I finish dressing and turn to him. He's younger, late teens, brown eyes and hair. "That your duck?" I ask.

"Yup." He puffs out his barrel chest. "Me 'n Jester are training to become the best swimmers. I'm Grant by the way. Saw you take on Cortex. Who's your little friend?"

"Oh, this guy?" Litwick nudges my ankle anxiously. "Morse."

"Hah, well, I bet that nice piece of charcoal will help lil' Morse get stronger," says Grant. "What made ya wanna walk the Path anyway? Been decades since anyone's fully done it."

"Decades?" I whisper.

"Yeah, the previous Pathwalker completed every Trial, then disappeared shortly after." Grant stretches. "There've been all kinds of rumors about the Path being cursed somehow. Some even say the more Trials you do, the worse the curse gets. People will walk part of the way, but no one wants to walk it fully."

"Hold up." My intrigue is piqued. "Why would it be cursed?"

"Well, that's a good question, no one's got an answer to," he says. "The Path of the Ancients has always been tied to Rocaire – the Sky Region is related to the Path which travels through its mountains. Ever since the Last Pathwalker vanished, there's been weird things happening in the region. Even the weather's been getting outta whack. Hard to believe it's that climate change they say it is on the news. It feels… more sinister somehow."

I'm not one to trust sensationalized media. But I do believe in paranormal occurrences. Hard not to when you've seen them with your own eyes. "So, there's not been a single trace of 'em since the Pathwalker's journey was completed?"

"None of the Pathwalker." Grant's voice lowers, "Some people say they've seen the Pathwalker's right-hand-mon, the so-called Red Lieutenant, searching diligently for something throughout Rocaire. But it's only rumors."

It isn't much to go on. To get to the bottom of the mystery, I'll have to find out more about the Path. I shrug. "I gotta get going. Catch ya later."

Grant and the duck wave goodbye, resuming their training.

The rest of my search for Ette around the Precept Center grounds is unsuccessful. However, the candle is still aimlessly following me around. Once we leave the center's gates, I turn around and confront it.

"Y'know, I'm not a trainer. Can't take care of you." I sneeze into my sleeve. "Shit, can't even take care of myself."

He refuses to budge, sets down the brick of fuel, and stares me down.

"C'mon, you got your charcoal back. Aren't you satisfied?"

Nope, not blinking. As if I could beat a ghost in a staring contest. Not going to happen.

"Ugh, you're stubborn." I pinch my nose bridge. "Need to find you a ball or you're gonna leave a mighty conspicuous trail of wax everywhere I go."

From behind me Morse snickers. I turn to see the candle can in fact move without leaving a track. That settles that.

We decide to camp out on a bench near the 'Shoppe' in town and people-watch for the afternoon. What I'm looking for is simple, someone who drops their merch: the coveted ball. Seen it happen way too often, and though it's not exactly scrupulous, there's no other easy way for someone unlicensed to get their hands on one.

While waiting around I check my phone just to be sure. There's no messages on it. "Talk about getting a phantom message," I say to Morse's cheeky expression.

By the time my ass is tired of sitting, I overhear some commotion from across the road. Without warning, a blue cat with green eyes races out from a restaurant. It's got some fish in its mouth. "Meowstic?" I mumble. It leaps high into the air, floats with some impressive hang time, then continues to run.

"—AHA! Found you!" An energetic girl, wearing a lavender top, charges after the fleeing cat. "Please somebody! Stop Russel!"

Realizing the mouser is running right at our bench on all fours, I stand up. "Hey, Morse, you wanna help this dame out with catching her cat?"

Morse's flame summons a brass colored orb. He spins around and whacks the strange ball with his wax arms.

The sphere sparkles and glistens as it sails through the air. The running cat attempts to leap out of its way, however, he is caught off-guard as the ball explodes in a flash of sparks like a firecracker.

The tom slows, dizzy and stunned, he fumbles onto the ground.

The young, teenage girl races to pick him up in her arms. "Oh, Russel, what am I going to do with you, you little troublemaker!" She cradles the cat close to her bosom and strokes his fluffy tail.

It's nice to see she's happy to have her Russel back. At this rate though, I think she's tuned out the rest of the world. I cough to get her attention.

"Oh!" Her deep blue eyes shoot up. "Thank you so much! Um, I don't think I could've caught him on my own!"

"Nah," I say, "was a cinch thanks to Morse."

Morse grimaces as his arms jut out.

"Oh, and you too, Mister Candle, thank you!"

He receives the gal's praise well. His stern demeanor softens.

"Does Russel run away often?" I ask.

"Yeah-huh," she says, "I couldn't find him for almost a whole day, but thankfully the fortune-teller told me where to look!"

"Fortune-teller? Y'don't say?"

"Yes, she lives right up that path. Over there! She's real nice, but charges—just so ya know. Gave me a riddle of a fortune about Russel lookin' for food. Didn't make sense to look here before I went to her."

"Why's that?"

"It's 'cos I always feed him." She scratches his belly. "Just…not what he likes. I'm afraid he'll turn into a fat cat!"

I smile. "Well, he's got an independent spirit to go for the good stuff."

"Tell me about it," she moans. "And his psychic powers mean he can almost fly!"

"That's one lucky fortune if it helped you catch a flying cat," I admit.

"It's not just luck!" scoffs the girl. "Madam knows her craft really well, I think her bird helps her see the future too."

"See the future?" Incredulous as I am, the prospect does sound tempting. "I'm looking for someone too, maybe I oughta see her."

"Go for it!" encourages the girl. "Now that I found Russel, I gotta go home, it's almost time for dinner! Thanks again, you too, Mister Candle!" She races off with her friend in her arms.

"Wow…" I turn to Morse, who has his hands resting confidently on his sides. "You think she had the right idea about seeing the fortune-teller?"

He shrugs and continues to chomp on the charcoal.

"Dang, it's getting late, the store's gonna close soon," I say. "No sense sticking around here. Maybe we oughta pay this fortune lady a visit. I mean, I dunno what else to do before we skip town? Word's gonna get out they're looking for a guy with a broken arm and a missing nurse."

Morse, being clever, looks around and asks in fire-code, "Nurse?"

"Ette—ehh…don't worry 'bout it."

After asking for some directions, we manage to make it up the slope of the hill on the opposite end of town. The wooded path is sparse, and the late afternoon sky makes for a scenic journey up the incline. A cottage made of logs with vines hanging from the awning greets us. Clouds of smoke wisp from the stout chimney, someone's home. To the right of the door, a wooden sign has several esoteric symbols carved into its face and underneath reads "Wheel of Fortune". Guess this must be the place.

I saunter up to the door and lift the back of my fist to knock. Just as I'm about to rap my knuckles on the boards, the door swings open.

"…!"

No way. I'm stupefied, not only because of the timing, but because of who I'm looking at. It's the same nurse from before. Though she's not wearing her work uniform, she's retied those same tight braids from before we got wet.

My eyes lock with hers. My arm loses all strength as I stare at the peculiar sight in front of me. Though my mind sees the image, I can't process how this is happening. What are the odds? She's exactly who I'm looking for and this—of all times and places—is how I find her? "Ette…?" I whisper. "You…!"

She fluffs her voluminous hair with a wave of her hand. Her eyes peer back into the cottage, where the warm glow of a fireplace causes her golden irises to glisten. In a truncated voice she asks, "Was this what you meant?"

Another voice from inside the cabin, perhaps that of an elderly woman, responds. "Ahh, so it would seem, so it would seem."

Ette quickly pushes by me, wearing a scowl a hundred times nastier than usual.

I'm dumbfounded to the point where I forget I can try and stop her. Wouldn't do much good, my whole body is frozen from surprise.

Morse, however, is not as shell-shocked. The little guy blocks Ette by projecting a large, dark shadow on the ground in her path. It spreads wildly up to the cottage threshold, a threatening mire of liquid ebony with tendrils rising from the glossy surface.

Ette pauses. She leans close, right up against my cast, and hisses, "Tell it to move or I'll snap your arm."

"Fat chance," I retort. "Ain't nurses supposed to help their patients?"

Her steady glower breaks into a furious pout. "Thanks to you, I'm no longer employed as a nurse."

"Still MY nurse though," I counter. "You never did let me opt for a pink blob instead."

Her gilded eyes narrow, she looks about to smack me. But then in a restrained voice belying her frustration asks, "Why?"

She's not in my head or anything, so what she means is anyone's guess. "Uh…why what?"

"Why'd you have that stupid, rotten, no-good, thing in your cast?" she exclaims in a feverish pitch. "Who the hell carries something like that around?"

I'm extremely confused. Why's she so mad? "Hey, I mean, you picked it up." My eyes trace down to her hands, but she's not holding it. "You said you wanted to keep it, and I disagreed 'cos I need it to pay off my debt. Remember?"

Her body starts shaking, she grips her fingers tightly and growls in a way I never thought she could. Yet she can't even speak, she's pissed out of her mind.

"What's the matter?" Hair starts to stand up on the back of my neck as I assume the worst. "Don't tell me you lost it!"

"I—" Ette bites her lip. Her fingers dance through her braids as she shifts her lithe figure back and forth uncomfortably.

"Oh, brother," I grumble. "This is just peachy."

"Shut up, this is all your fault!" she fumes.

"My fault, huh?" I summon a false smile. "Funny how that works. Suppose it was my fault you screwed with my memories too?"

"Huh?!" She recoils. "I healed you."

"Uh-huh, sure thing, so messing with my memories was an afterthought?"

She has this serious, looks-can-kill glare. "I could never – would never do anything like that!"

Now, I don't know too much about her, but the way she says it with such avowal makes me reconsider she's to blame. But I'm still not sure. If I stick around, I'm sure the truth will come out. "Whatever. Look, ya said you're not working at the clinic anymore, so why don't we both go look for it?"

Ette shakes her head, a look of bewilderment on her already pale face.

At this point, the old woman in the cottage hobbles over on her finely carved maple cane. She's got white hair tied into a bun. Her sun-aged face is covered in dimples and a pair of extra-large glasses that sit on her bulbous nose. By her side is an Xatu with a wide beak and a set of charms and dreamcatchers wrapped around its neck.

The elderly woman greets me with a warm and welcoming smile, though I'm quite sure her teeth are not real. "Hello, sonny," she says, "I'm Madam Magrewe. Welcome to my humble cottage. We've been getting many visitors lately…Ohoho, business is good as ever."

Xatu bows beside her, its steady gaze unflinching. It's a little unnerving, but the woman seems kind.

"Hi," I say to the old lady, "you're the fortune-teller everyone talks about?"

"Ooh," she rubs her head with a trembling hand. Meanwhile, Xatu bobs its unblinking head. "Why yes, yes I am," says Magrewe in an eccentric manner.

"Huh, what great luck." I grin. "So, how much is a fortune? What's the future hold for me?"

"—No!" Ette, at Mach speed, jumps between her and me. "Do NOT give him any such thing!"

My brow lifts. "Weird, why would you care 'bout me getting a fortune? Won't it help locate my rock you lost?"

Ette huffs while brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. "Because, I already got a fortune about it."

"Oh, nice. Saves me some moolah." My gaze travels to Madam Magrewe, then to Xatu, and back at Ette. "Well, what was it?"

"Ngh." Ette spins her heel on the shack's rickety floorboards. "Can't say."

"For frickin' sake…Give me a break." I shake my head, and ask the crone, "C'mon, she's looking for something belonging to me. If you're a real fortune-teller, ya oughta already know."

The wrinkly woman bows her head as Xatu's eyes flash aglow in a mauve hue. Magrewe begins to strongly speak, contrary to her fragile constitution.

"I see a vision, a future, one through the right eye…"

My focus is concentrating on her bird. The wooden shelves behind it begin to clatter.

"And—there! Ah yes, I see that which you seek."

There's just enough psychic voodoo going on in the old cabin where I start to wonder. Not blindly accept, but at least consider the possibility.

"OH!"

I jump as the woman's hands reach up rattling the beads around her neck. "…What?"

"Oh! Oh my! This is different than darling Ette's. The ending, oh, for this I may have to charge…"

"Huh?" Ette's ears rise. "What?"

"You are seeking a treasure, which is said to entwine the fates of those who seek it. It has been called many things, those who came before referred to it as a Knot of Destiny or Destiny's Knot."

Hold on one second. "Those who came before?" Something stinks about that. And why is Xatu flapping its wings like it's about to take off?

"I see it!" The woman's furrowed eyes open wide as Xatu caws. "Head to mountains wrought of snow and ice, under the jeweled crown of moonlight."

"Huh, that's surprisingly specific." I leer. "Who came before us?"

"Ah, an ever-fleeting form appeared in my mind's eye and sought to deliver it there with utmost haste."

I'm not about to get scammed. I see through their charade. With those big eyes and wings, I'm sure Xatu does more 'recon' than predicting. "Color me impressed. Sounds like you eavesdropped on someone and listened to their conversation. But, I'll bet doing something like that wouldn't be a great way to drum up business the way you mentioned earlier."

She may be an old woman, but she's not immune to the telling signs of being caught in a hoax. Magrewe shifts her eyes, grasping her cane tightly, while settling back into an indoor voice. "I'm no swindler. No, oh no. I just discerned darling Ette's fortune, yes, the very same. You two share the same fortune, yours was a…ah, addendum, so there's no charge."

I'm expecting Ette to have something snarky to say, but she's cold as ice, shielding her face from me by looking out the cabin door. "So, this—thing you were lucky enough to 'foresee'," I gripe, while playing along with Magrewe, "the artifact, Destiny's Knot, whoever took it is heading to the mountains of snow and ice, which would mean northern Rocaire."

Magrewe nods. "Oh yes, yes, it is as you say, my child."

Xatu lowers both wings to its narrow body, the purple glow coming from its eyes evaporating into mist.

"Hm. If we reach the mountains of snow and ice, under the jeweled crown of moonlight, we'll find who stole it," I deduce. "That's not a lot to go off but it beats nothing at all—"

"—Tsk! Were you even listening to her?" snaps Ette as she turns around. She's really looking out of it, her eyes are all watery, and her cheeks have reddened, almost like she has to sneeze.

"What, are you slow? We gotta find a mountain of snow 'n ice—"

"—That's not what I meant!" she yells. "The part about us having the same fortune and, and en—ent—…Bleh!"

"Sheesh, take it easy, would you?" I sigh. Some psychic Ette is. She's still buying this woman's snake oil. "Since we both held the piece, makes sense we're connected to it. Isn't it obvious?"

"How's it entwine us though?!" she snarls.

"'Entwine the fates of those who seek it.'" I snort. "People lookin' for it are bound to cross paths."

Magrewe wears a forced smile. "It did seem quite valuable…to the vision in my mind's eye, that is."

"Tell me," I ask, "did the 'vision' in your 'mind's eye' have the Destiny's Knot?"

The old woman bows her head. Xatu caws once. Then she nods her head. "Yes, ah, yes! The vision has shown me the past and the future, both are at one with which you seek."

"—Fine." How annoying.

Ette tilts her head. "Madam," she asks, "why did you say it would bring us together?"

"Ohoho," she laughs. "A fine question, darling Ette. You see, my predictions are always true. And, lo and behold, this object you seek, its lure to the both of you, has come to pass already."

"Hmph. Or, more likely, you told her enough to figure out we're both seeking it," I mutter, shaking my head.

Magrewe's eyes shoot daggers at me, the voice of reason, tasked with dispelling her farce.

I glare back at the woman and perceptively nod. "Then again, her—unorthodox—methods helped a girl in town find her flying cat. What she saw can help us too."

Magrewe's glower evaporates into a buoyant chuckle. "Ohoho, dear Russel is such a sweetheart. My fortune-telling has a reputation for a good reason…Veracity."

I wouldn't call it that. More like gathering intel though Xatu's spying, then selling it to people under the guise of a fortune. Information brokering in Rocaire really has evolved.

Ette clasps her trembling hands together on her skirt and asks me, "How can you be so calm?"

"Huh? Oh, right, 'cos this is something our future depends on. If I can't get that dang thing back, how will I ever pay off my debts and have a normal life? How will you do whatever it is you want to do?"

"Our future?!" Ette almost chokes on the words. "Unbelievable. There's nothing normal about what she said," she hisses.

"Well, sure, there were a few goofy parts thrown in for dramatic effect – but she did tell me more than you did."

"And at no charge to you, young man!" chimes in the old woman with gusto.

"Ugh. That's not what I meant…" I have a lot of questions for Ette but, based on the track record of these two gossipers, we should probably at least be out of ear's reach before we deliberate. "We should go. Fortune waits for no one!"

Magrewe smiles and nods, content I'm not going to expose her little act. If people want to pay her for gossip then that's their prerogative, calling it fortune-telling though, that's quite a stretch. We've got more important things to take care of however.

"Thanks for the…uh, help," I say to the eccentric pair.

"You're most welcome," rattles the old lady.

Xatu shifts its wings and bows its head.

"Yeah, thanks to you too," I say to the bird's large black eyes, the cameras behind the whole operation. "Divination like yours, must be a special gift. Better come through or we'll be back, and, trust me, there won't be any more 'fortunes' in your future, we'll make sure."

The bird caws at me as we depart the cottage.

"What did you mean by that?" asks Ette.

She's totally clueless. I feel bad she paid them under the pretense they were the real deal, however the information does help. "Don't worry 'bout it, we're off to get that artifact back. Reckon it'll be a hike, Rocaire is a huge region and we're going from one corner to another. Better regroup in town and get supplies."

Though I'd like to be leading, Ette's taken point, with Morse scurrying on the woodland path close behind her.

She jumps and presses her hands on her short skirt. "Tell it to not follow me so close! It's freaking me out!"

"Oh, Morse? He's a smart lil' guy. Sure if you ask nicely he'll stop trying to get a peek at your can—uh!—I mean, canisters. Right, those colorful vials you got tucked in that satchel on your belt."

If looks could kill, she'd be a murderer right now.

"Hey, c'mon, ease up, buddy—this ain't a race," I tell Morse, before asking Ette, "What are those anyway?"

"Poisons," she says menacingly.

"…!" I feel my insides churn. "You're not serious, are you? What sort of evil nurse are you? Are you secretly working for Doctor Death?"

"Hmph." She waves an arm. "Poisons can be used to treat other poisons and ward off enervation. It's basic pharmacology really, a downright necessity for venturing in the woods."

"Oh, I see. So, they're like antidotes," I say, feeling a wave of relief.

"Or medicines to be used in a pinch. With potions, it's all about getting the proper mixture, administering the right dose. I'll spare you the technical details." She closes the leather flap on her satchel. "They could kill you, unless something else was trying to kill you."

"Geez, what a dangerous thing to do." Unless I'm missing something, it's odd for her type to be carrying around poison. Everything about Ette seems so peculiar.

"It's really not, I know what I'm doing," she says in a haughty tone.

I stop. "Oh yeah? Then how'd you lose the artifact?"

Her snooty attitude transforms into a scowl as she turns around. "After what happened, I couldn't go back. Figured I'd investigate the piece but couldn't figure out what it said."

"Yeah, me neither," I interject. "Written in some weird script that appeared after I first held it."

"That's when I decided I had to give it back. Since you're the one whose job it involves. However, handing it off didn't happen—you were in the area battling. I thought I'd wait until your game was over and meet you once the crowd thinned out." Ette winces. "But that's when I let my guard down."

"How'd it happen?"

"It was stolen." Ette squeezes her large left ear out of the way to touch her head. "By a brute with sword blades for arms and a skull with a prominent crack on its parietal, left hemisphere."

"Bisharp?" I wonder. "With a scar of some sort on its noggin. Interesting. Did it say anything?"

"N-No?" Ette flushes. "Just because I can talk doesn't mean I engage in conversations with rogues at every opportunity!"

"Hm, fair point, better find it and pay off my debt soon or we'll have nothing to talk about."

"Rrgh!" Ette jams her hands together. "Now I'm wrapped up in this too."

"Why can't you go back to work at the clinic?" I ask.

Her posture shrinks, her expression turns reticent. "I…it's just, I can't."

It's painfully obvious she's not telling me something. Then again, turning down her help would be a major mistake. "Whatever. I just want you to know: I didn't mean for this to go so far."

Ette's arms cross over her heart. "You think telling me this NOW changes anything?"

"If you wanna help, by all means."

Morse squeaks.

"Oh, right, introductions. This is Morse. Morse, this is Ette."

Ette, in all her sour discontent, growls a greeting.

Morse doesn't appear bothered however. He's a chipper sort of individual, which I suppose makes them opposites.


	4. Chapter 4: Evening Leaves

Chapter 4: Evening Leaves

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The three of us continue down the pleasant mountain trail before evening. The air is dry and crisp. Some birds chirp in the distance. The first leaves are starting to change to an autumnal color, but it's still fairly warm.

It's not too far a trek, but Ette dampens the mood. She's always scowling. Would it kill her to at least pretend not to be miserable? You would've thought the fortune-teller gave her a death sentence.

Morse and I make a game out of it, counting the times she respires dramatically or groans on fingers and flames.

What's odd about it though is how oblivious she is. For a psychic, that is. Shouldn't she know exactly what we're doing behind her back? Maybe she does know, and that's adding fuel to her misery. It makes me think and eventually I grow bored of the little game.

But she still doesn't stop scowling.

We make it back to town around twilight. There's a two-story inn that looks promising. We're cutting it close by staying a night, there's bound to be someone looking for us by now. However, the whole day's really worn me down. Plus, it'd be straight-up stupid to travel at night.

"Alright," I say, "the plan is to grab a map, some supplies, then head out first thing tomorrow morning."

"Um, won't they recognize me?" wonders Ette. "I live near here. It isn't a very large town."

"Hm, that's fair." Even though she's not wearing her nurse uniform, the cute outfit she's got on doesn't do much in the subtly department. Plus, her bulky hair, gold eyes, and her ability to talk would give her away lickity split.

"You haven't even thought of this?" she growls. Her hands toy with her skirt.

"Aha!" I snap my fingers. "Can't you use psychic powers to get in people's heads?"

Her pale face turns pink under the eyes. "N-No…I-I mean, sure I could, but, it's not something I'd want to do!"

"Hm." What a strangely specific answer. Would've guessed she'd have no problem doing it if she was driven to. "Can't you do a little, uh, diversion? Nothing dangerous, just something to turn people's heads away while I pay for the room."

"Rooms!" she demands, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I know, sheesh." Then I remember I'm broke. "Uh, actually, I don't think this is gonna work."

Ette tilts her head. "Why not?"

I lift my brow. "Shouldn't ya know? You're a psychic."

She bats her eyes then shuts them.

I wait. Feels like an eternity passes, but she doesn't answer.

Morse breaks the silence with a loud pop of a wax bubble collapsing.

Ette snaps her eyes open and insists, "I can't concentrate right now, too much is going on in my mind. It's what's called Emotional Interference, and it's a lot like static."

"Emotional Interference…?" Never heard of that. But she is an empath by virtue of her powers, so it might be plausible. Really, my knowledge of her species is next to nil. Most of the stuff I've heard is either hearsay or from children's encyclopedias.

Ette clasps her hands together in front of her heart. "Just tell me."

"I gotta pay off my debt to the clinic and I'm real tight on cash." My eyes travel to the distant horizon. "That's why I need to make sure to finish my job to collect."

"You're destitute." Her shoulders slump.

"Nah. I'd use the term, 'financially challenged'. But, y'know, I'm gonna pay it all back."

"How?" she demands.

"You'll see. Soon as we get that artifact back from the thief." The gears are turning in my mind. "Ette, do you know a place where we can find supplies?"

"The store's closed," she grumbles. "Missed that opportunity. Oh wait, you're broke so you'd need a loan."

"True. Maybe I can convince someone to help, let's go back to the Precept Center."

On our way there, there's a bit of commotion over by the main entrance. Luckily, we took the side path, which gives us an excellent vantage of, to my despair, the authorities. They're in blue uniforms, talking with a trainer I don't recognize.

"You're tellin' me you saw this bloke without his hostage battling Cortex?" growls an officer with a big gut and a very red, very large face. "The report indicated he was injured in one arm and his monsters…" His chubby fingers motion to his right-hand man.

The lean detective at the officer's side scrolls through the bright screen of a PDA. "—How unusual. The perp's profile doesn't match any records at all!"

"What're his monsters?" demands the hotheaded officer. He's so worked up it looks like his uniform is two sizes too small. "Details, Kline, details!"

The witness shakes his head. "I'unno, he showed up, then disappeared."

"No monsters in the database." The lanky detective wipes his brow with a sleeve. "Gardevoir, a nurse by the name of Colette Reeves, but she's the hostage."

"Classic hostage situation, but there's nothing usual about it." grunts the obese officer. "Asshole breaks outta a hospital without paying after they're kind enough to fix 'em up, then he steals the head's pride and joy. He's not even in the damn records. Hmph! We're dealing with a magnificent bastard."

"We should round up a larger posse and survey the area," suggests the detective. "They couldn't have gone far based on the, erm, unique profile of the hostage."

"Oughta wring the bastard's neck when we find 'em," spits the officer. "This ain't the wild west anymore. We need to teach 'em respect for civil society."

"Hardly a civil gentleman, proclaiming civility." I nudge Ette and whisper, "We better bail. No sense getting into more trouble."

She follows close as we retreat from the scene in the twilight air. The three of us pause by the woods on the outskirts. Morse's light dispels the sinking shadows from a canopy of trees.

"The head's pride and joy," I wheeze a laugh. "Was he talkin' 'bout you?"

Ette flushes. "You're the one he called a bastard."

"I'm gravely wounded by his words, as you can undoubtedly tell." I sneer.

"Liar."

"Looks like we'll have to leave sooner than expected."

"But how?" she moans.

I set my eyes on her honestly. "Don'tcha know a place with supplies? Y'know like a spot you'd go to in an emergency? Somewhere like that'd do alright."

"No way! We are not stealing from Mas—" Ette's voice abruptly halts. Then she grimaces, her lips form a pout and she looks about to throw up.

"Huh?"

"I'm already in deep enough trouble as it is." Her breaths quicken.

"Easy does it," I say as calm as I can. "I'm not saying we should rob anyone, but since you're treated like a human, I figured you own some things that oughta be useful in a pinch."

"I…I'm…" Her lips won't stop trembling. "Treated like a human?"

"Oh, brother." I clasp my hand on my cast. "You've got a job at a clinic—don't you get a salary?"

She sort of nods, but I'm not convinced she knows what I'm talking about.

"Like money, or do you do it for free?"

"I do it to be the best I can be," she says automatically. "That's why I do it, to become better. It's a reward itself."

I shake my head and curse. "Goddamn, don't you have any agency? Sense of self-worth? You should get compensation for your hard work!"

Ette bites her lip. "I don't need that. Mas—" Once again, she pauses, afraid to say the word.

"Master's been using you," I say to her face.

"No!" she recoils. "That isn't true. He's kind. He takes care of my every need."

"Look, I'm not one to judge how you live your life, but it seems like a lousy setup." I gesture with my arm. "You slave away in a clinic, saving people's lives, so Master can feed and clothe you, for you? How's that fair?"

"It isn't like that!" Ette shakes her head. "How could a crook like you possibly understand?"

That ticks me off. Just when I feel angry heat spread up my shoulder blades, Morse interrupts with a whine. Tempering myself, I ask the little guy, "What's up, bud?"

He points in the direction of a sweeping light from an approaching flashlight.

"Oh, dang, this ain't good."

Ette leans in curiously, as if we're discussing some grand secret. "What?"

She's not a very gifted psychic. "See those lights?" I point. "They're ramping up the investigation. The search party's heading our way!"

Running in the opposite direction only takes us into the woods. The really dark and ominous woods. You can tell it's a bad idea just by how the light drops off into pitch black. Not even the stars and moon illuminate whatever dwells in the dense forest.

As we approach, Ette asks, "We're not going to go wandering around in there are we? We'll get eaten or worse!"

"If you got any other ideas, I'm all ears," I say between ragged breaths.

"There's a cabin," she sighs, "one not too far from here. It's by a big lake. We can get there through this road from the town."

"See? That wasn't so hard. You lead the way."

She does, and with a certain confidence too. Though it's past sunset, Morse's light helps us along the old road. Thankfully there's not a lot of woods, and the path's seen recent vehicle traffic. I'm not too worried about her getting us lost.

When we're about two miles out of town, I start to feel a hint of relief. At least enough to talk. "Whose cabin we going to?" Think I know the answer, but I want her to say it.

However, this time, Ette deliberates before responding. "My supervisor's."

"Isn't that risky?"

"You say it as if breaking out of a hospital and running isn't," is her sassy response.

"Touché." As the path curves down into a valley, I spot the vague outline of a grand log cabin. "So, this is the head honcho's pad?"

"More like a vacation home. M— Doctor Reeves works a lot, so he doesn't come here often, instead he stays at the clinic most nights. All my memories of growing up are from here though. I guess that makes it my home."

My jaw drops. Since it's so dark, I can't see exactly how massive the house is, but judging by the imposing façade it's already huge. "Wow, three floors, what a rich guy."

"Please, you're making me uncomfortable." Ette fidgets. "Are you so much of an indigent that you've never set foot in a house with stairs?"

"Nah," I chuckle, "but you do have a nicer place than most girls I know."

She huffs crossly. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Quite frankly, I don't know why I phrased it like she was human. It must be because she talks, and how her mannerisms are so human-like. Yeah, that must be it. "What's your angle anyway?" I press. "Why'd you decide to help a sap like me? I mean, sheesh, just look at the size of this place, you're loaded!"

Her lithe form shuffles in place anxiously. "This isn't my wealth, it's his."

"You work for him though." My finger points. "And you even get to call a lavish mansion like this home."

"It's not a mansion!" she exclaims. "You shouldn't make fun of where someone lives. What about you, you live on the streets I'll bet!"

"Yeah—" I slump "—guess nowadays I do. Wasn't always this way though."

Growling, Ette throws her arms up in front of her and says in a frustrated voice, "You really shouldn't make fun of where someone lives! I've always been taught manners and humans are really picky about them."

"Or Reeves is anyway." I shrug. "Guess what I'm wondering is: Why upset the apple cart when you have it so good?"

"Because I want to," she replies in a matter-of-fact tone.

Wow—isn't that vague. "You got a good life, Ette. You could just keep the status quo. Stay a nurse and live like a queen in a castle. Not a bad life."

"I know I'm trained as a nurse. But, ever since—" holding her heart, she sighs "—never mind that. After I held the artifact, I've been wondering who I really am. Whether it coincides with my profession, and what that means for me as a—" her voice cuts off, like she's unsure of what to call herself.

Seems like Ette is trapped between two worlds: the monster one and the human one. Still, what she's wondering is surprisingly deep. In fact, it makes me wonder too. Who am I really? Surely not just some failure of an artifact delivery-boy. Am I?

"You're quiet," she says.

"Just thinking 'bout what you said." I paw my chin. "Did you want to be a nurse?"

Her lacy eyes blink from turmoil going on behind them. "I—of course I did. I just—never really thought about why so much before. I've always wanted to help. And Doctor Reeves taught me a way I could."

"Fair enough." Before we walk to the house, I stop her with an outstretched arm. "Wait. Any chance he's home? Since you went missing, this'll be one of the first places he'd check. You're his pride and joy, woulda thought he'd like to see you ASAP."

"I can only imagine his feelings." Ette's narrow shoulders sink. "He hides them very well, but what does get through to me is how much he loves me."

"Love is a strong word," I reply.

She glares. "It isn't what you think. The emotion of love takes on such carnal definitions around humans, I swear."

"Nah, don't sweat it, I know what you mean." She's talking about Storge love, the natural or instinctual affection between family members, an empathy of sorts, felt by parents and children. "Oh! Is he the one who taught you how to speak?"

"Sort of." Ette rocks her head, vacillating. "I've had the ability since I was young. Sing—that's what they call it."

"Oh yeah. That was a pretty song. Knocked the security guard out in a jiffy."

She frowns. "It used to be the only way I could communicate to the world…I was always so scared until I learned that there were other sounds that wouldn't make people drop like a dose of morphine."

"You couldn't just mind-read or use telepathy?"

She laughs, I think. "Don't be ridiculous! Ralts don't know how to do THAT until they're older."

"But then how do they communicate prior to learning it?"

Her face sours. "Ough, I don't know. Don't tend to remember little things like that from when I was a baby, do you?"

I shake my head no.

"See?"

"So, your only way to communicate with the world was your song." It sounds awfully strange, especially for a psychic. "Which consequently puts people to sleep."

Ette blushes. "Aren't you glad I learned to speak?"

"Yeah, suppose so. Just don't know why you'd be forced to…"

"—We're wasting time!" Ette raises a brow and lets her eyes on the lake house. "Shall I call out to him like a Nightingale?"

"What the—?! No!"

"I'm only joking," replies Ette, a wry look on her face in the flickering candle light.

I investigate the house from afar. "The house appears empty, but there's no telling if someone's waiting inside with a shotgun."

"Doubt it." Ette brashly pushes past me. "He's not as unhinged as you."

That felt like a low blow. To prove her wrong, I'm not going to stop her. Besides, it's her place. Still, I'm anxious.

Ette prances up to the threshold like a schoolgirl, a key appears in her hand from nowhere and she turns it delicately to unlock the door. It opens to a dark interior. She turns around, both her hands on her glowing heart. "I don't sense anyone." Then she turns on the lights in the hall.

"Morse, mind keeping a lookout while we're inside? If there's trouble, shoot up a flame and we'll come running."

He gives a nod; however, he's chomping on that charcoal so ferociously I'm worried he might be too preoccupied to keep sentry.

The cabin is, like I thought, enormous. Even the front vestibule feels like it could be its own home.

Ette is spryly racing along the hardwood floors. "I never keep these on indoors," she says excitedly gesturing to her long boots and tugging her tights. "It doesn't really matter anymore though."

Her comment is a little unsettling, but I'm not one to judge her upbringing. Though a human raising her like a daughter seems more than a little challenging. Darn it, we're pressed for time. I can't wonder about her upbringing now. "Where's the storage room?" I say gruffly.

"Oh, it's in the cellar, with all the old equipment," she says.

My jaw hits the floor. "There's a basement too?"

"Yup, our house is built on a hill overlooking the lake, so the floor below us is at ground level facing the water." Her fingers skate on her skirt's hem as she segues into a stretch. "First I need to get some things from my room. Don't go down there without me."

"Uh-huh. Guess I'll wait then." She is my only leverage after all.

Ette excitedly races up the majestic wooden stairwell out of my sight.

I peer around the first floor, there's a sizable kitchen, and a great banquet hall overlooking the moon reflecting on the lake. Adjacent to the sliding doors leading out to the deck overlooking the water is a mesmerizing art collection of painted landscape vistas of Rocaire. I follow them, briefly getting lost in each scene on my way to the grand fireplace.

Some framed pictures on the mantle catch my eye and I pick up the closest one.

"Huh, so this is Ette as a Kirlia." She's wearing girly clothes, jubilantly posing on the lakeside dock. Everything is manicured about the photograph, from the lighting to the perspective. Must've been captured by a professional photographer. It's a nicer version of the posture she had in the clinic when she huffed my surname, without the grouchiness. Her arms are crossed over her chest like a spoiled princess. And that big smile is priceless, I didn't know Ette could exude such happiness.

In another photo, Ette's wearing a blue contest ribbon with Doctor Reeves on one knee by her side, they're both thrilled, smiling ear to ear. The next one shows her at a younger age than the other two, fishing on a boat in the nearby lake with Reeves showing her how to cast the line. In the last photo she's the most mature, she must have recently evolved because here at a fancy formal dinner party underneath the soft light of crystal chandeliers, she's a very grown-up Kirlia and Doctor Reeves looks more the age of the man I saw at the clinic.

Each one of the pictures brings to my attention the lack of a matriarch. Guess the Doc isn't married. Nevertheless, judging from the photographs, Ette's his surrogate girl. It's easy to tell how much he cares about her like his daughter based on his grin and body language. He had the vibe of her father at the hospital but seeing all this shared history they have really drives the point home. Still, even if he's her adoptive dad, it's strange how he doesn't want Ette to be independent. Maybe he's having a hard time with her growing up and doing her own thing? Some parents can be that way, especially if they're attached to their children.

Then it hits me. The golden ball chucked by Doctor Reeves. What if it was actually Ette's? That'd be…complicated. It might explain why she's conditioned to call him Master. And why she works so hard at the clinic in exchange for seemingly nothing of her own. Although, it also appears she has unfettered access to Reeves's vast wealth, like a kid with their parent's credit card. Whatever he owns, including this house, she has a sense of ownership over as well. Which is good in a way, but I think the established family dynamics mean he's the one she leans on and will listen to.

My head is spinning with these unverifiable hypotheticals. "Why the hell am I looking at her dumb old pictures?" I set the photo down. "This is getting weird."

As if it wasn't already.

I hear the pattering of what I assume to be Ette overhead. How long is she going to take to get ready? Granted, this is no small task ahead of us. After plopping down on the comfortable leather couch and waiting around for an eternity, I feel like checking to make sure she's okay.

Making my way up the stairs, holding on to the hefty solid oak railing as I go, the vastness of this castle really starts to sink in. I could get lost in here if I'm not careful, and that'd be embarrassing.

"Ette," I call out. "Y'alright?"

There's no answer. I pause, and strain to hear any noise. Nothing. Did something happen to her? My heart starts to pound with worry. Maybe the house wasn't as empty as we thought.

"Shit." My gaze looks around for a weapon of some sort in case of an ambush. By the second floor's fireplace, I grab a cast-iron poker and brandish it like a crude mace.

One by one, I check the rooms. A game room, a study, a bedroom, another bedroom, a trophy room, an art display. All empty. The upper hallways are adorned with professional portraits of younger Ette in different, no-doubt expensive, outfits.

My feet are getting tired. It's time to check the third floor.

Once there, I hear a strange noise. Its high-pitch and brevity are extremely out of place, unnatural even. Never heard such a sound. I race toward it, unsure if someone is torturing Ette or what. It's got me worried enough where I forget to brake at a white oak door with a light on in the room. The door swings open.

And there's Ette, bathing, in a tub of foamy water. Her hands rush to her chest and she lets out the most ear-shattering shriek.

My fingers go limp in the steamy sauna, my iron mace clangs on the tile floor a million miles away. Can't believe what I'm almost seeing. "Fuck—! I'm sorry!"

Meanwhile, she's thrashing and yelling incoherently foul language. I avert my gaze and rush from the bathroom right before she flings a freaking shower curtain rod straight at my head. It slams on the other side of the thick door with a reverberating echo. Guess I deserved that.


	5. Chapter 5: Road to the Sky Region

Chapter 5: Road to the Sky Region

«=======================================================================================»

Back downstairs, I relentlessly pace around the large parlor as my mind races. Can't believe Ette's taking so long, then again, making her livid probably didn't help.

"Can't believe this! Where is she? Did she drown? We need to go! At least Morse is fine. Wait, is he? Ok, yes, he is."

It's the fifth time I've checked on Morse. The sky's awfully dark, if not for the moon. The night air is quiet too, save for the ambient noises echoing from the lake.

"What the hell is taking her?!" It's been almost a whole two hours since she went upstairs. With the investigation ramping up, there's not much time to get out of dodge, and she's taking her sweet ass time. Bathing! Like some sort of spoiled princess on holiday! What the hell have I gotten myself into? She's a damn albatross! We got to leave! I just want to see her ready to go!

_See_ her?

My mind doesn't even try to block out the recent memory. I didn't see _too_ much, she was pretty low in the tub. It could've easily been so much more awkward. Talk about embarrassing, not just for her, but me too. With my nerves stressed to the limit by everything that's happened, I honestly thought she was in trouble.

Suddenly, her gentle footsteps are coming down the stairs. She's wearing this dainty outfit with a frilly skirt. Reminds me of something a doll would have on to look cute. Hardly appropriate for venturing the wilderness of Rocaire, but I'm already on her shitlist so I refrain from commenting on her delicate choice of attire. Maybe this is just what she's comfortable wearing?

I cough loudly. "Y'all done?"

"What the hell was that about, you pervert!" she shouts. "Don't you know to knock?!"

"Said I'm sorry for barging in on you." Pressure wells in my chest as I speak. "You were gone over an hour. Wanted to make sure you were alright, called out, you didn't answer. Then I heard some really, _really_ weird noises and—"

"Enough!" She's pink in the face below the bangs of her still damp hair. "We'll never speak of this again. And if you try something so degenerate ever again, I'll give you a prompt head transplant using the nearest object in sight."

"Yikes…Seriously, my bad."

Ette sets down her luggage none too softly and shakes her fists at her side. "Rrgh! You have zero sense!"

"Y'know, I'm kinda on edge, considering there's a freakin' posse on the hunt for me and you're busy taking a bubble bath!"

"Don't give me that! It's imperative to be hygienic!" She points at the door. "…Is he still waiting?"

"Morse? Yeah. He's awfully content nomming on that charcoal. Lil' guy should send up a warning sign if anyone's coming down the road, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried."

Ette's ears wilt. "Let's hurry to the storage room."

She leads the way through a corridor beyond the great room. After following the hallway, we arrive at a cellar. Then she freezes.

Can tell something's not right. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"N-Nothing." She shakes her head.

"Uh, yeah right." I turn my head around, with all the landscape paintings on the wooden walls and the low hanging old lights, anxiety starts to eat at me. "Wait, did you sense something?"

Her hand clasps her perky ear. "No, nothing like that."

Strange. She's got psychic powers, but she's relying on her sense of hearing? I don't get her at all. Whatever, we don't have time. "Why won't you vamoose?"

Her long sigh is irritating. "—I don't like venturing down here."

"What's down there?" I taunt her, "Doc's cadavers? Some botched human-monster hybrid?"

"Don't be absurd." Ette's chin sinks. "When I was younger this place scared me."

"Since it's so dark?" I wonder.

She nods. Yet judging by her antsy expression, I don't feel like we're on the same wavelength.

"We don't have time to reminisce," I growl impatiently, "I'll go first if you're scared of a dark basement!"

As I brush past her, she protests, "I'm not scared!"

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care."

The door is stuck, I need to put my shoulder into it and push. After a heave, the thing flies open, almost sending me tumbling down the stairs.

Ette snatches my good arm to stop me from falling headfirst. "Don't be so reckless or you'll break your other arm." Accompanying a peeved hiss, she swats my arm away and turns her head.

"Yeah, yeah." Cold, somewhat musty air fills my lungs as I go down the steps. "Where're the lights? Ah, there!"

Flicking the switch reveals a large underground lair that branches off into two wings from a central workstation boasting a tremendous number of tools. There's everything from simple hacksaws to high pressure jet saws. Diagrams and schematics adorn an old, fading green chalkboard. All manner of unusual devices, metals, wires, and piping tie the place together to a darkened wing on our right, while the wing opposite is an illuminated garage being used to store his modest collection of vehicles.

"From the looks of things, Doc's had quite a few hobbies over the years," I remark to Ette's stoic silence.

She's not looking at the indecipherable plans scrawled on the board in chalk. Nor the sturdy workbench with the large lamp and power tools. No, her bright eyes are fixed on where those twisted tubes and wires lead, into the deepest and darkest part of the underground, below the hill the house is built on.

I'm not so sure I want to know what's back there, it seems out of the way from all the useful stuff. However, the look on Ette's face is one of morbid curiosity. I'm intrigued also. Maybe I can just take a peek.

Leaving her behind I follow the peculiar, almost laboratory-like equipment strewn around on the floor. Being inside the earth under the hill feels like visiting a crypt. The further I go the more equipment is covered in a blanket of dust. It hasn't been used for years, maybe even decades.

"The hell is this?"

I halt in front of a cylindrical chamber, surrounded with dense tendrils of cable wires. It appears to have been designed in such a way which would channel something, almost like a current. Fibrous cables orbit and feed into a vacant, hazed-over glass box in the middle. The ominous chamber looks too small to enter, but a little kid could probably fit inside. The idea of stuffing a child into what looks like a glass coffin isn't what bothers me, it's how there's room for more than one of these containers along the whirling canal, all feeding into the central compartment.

"We should go back." Ette's quiet suggestion comes from right over my shoulder and scares the ever-living hell out of me.

"Whagh!" I nearly jump out of my skin in surprise. "How'd you sneak up on me?"

"I've always been in tune with the flow of sounds, as long as I can—" Her soft voice pauses as her glare rests upon the mysterious chamber. "—remember."

"Yeah," I gulp. Starting to see why this place gives her the creeps. There's something unsettling about it all. "Let's go."

Unexpectedly, she grabs my arm.

"Any idea what all that was?" I ask as we leave the odd equipment.

She shakes her head no. Then her fingers firmly squeeze my forearm. "I remember doing this though."

"The hell you talking about?" Ette's starting to really worry me.

She's looking straight at the garage door, gazing at the moon's reflection off the lake through the high windows. "It's a feeling I have in my heart," she concludes. Without warning she smacks my hand away once we get back to the workbench. "Now do you see why I don't like the basement?"

"Yeah," I swallow dryly, "think he's been down here doing bad shit?"

"No. Doctor Reeves doesn't have a malevolent heart."

"I didn't ask about his heart, I asked about what he does."

"You saw all the untouched dust." Her voice lowers. "Whatever went on there expired a long time ago."

"Then why do you remember it?"

To that she frowns. "A strong feeling came over me when I saw it. It might not have been my own."

"Not your own?"

"It's called empathy, I'm really good at it." Her insufferable haughtiness is returning much to my chagrin.

"Still doesn't explain what that thing's doing here or what the Doc's purpose for it was."

"Doctor Reeves can be difficult to read, but he is caring, talented, stern, yet fair. His favorite things in the world are me and, of course, helping others. It wouldn't be here unless it served a good purpose."

All her praise of him makes me feel uneasy. Even if what we saw wasn't as bad as it looked, he's got Ette convinced, hook, line, and sinker. I don't know the guy well, but he seems to genuinely treat Ette like she's his child. I've seen a lot of evidence in the mansion showing his love for her. What worries me is when a child looks up to their loving parent so much they can't see their flaws.

Maybe a little time away from the clinic and Doctor Reeves will do her some good, that way she can come to her own conclusions, without feeling like she's princess of the Reeves castle.

I scramble to procure whatever's useful from the storage compartments by the work area. A fishing pole, a few camping bags, and some outerwear. Wrapping the various gear into a makeshift sack from a thermal blanket, I toss it over my shoulder like Delibird. Making my way through the garage, a dark gray pickup catches my eye. It's old, but a fine piece of machinery. Its flared fenders, 18-inch tires, and suspension remind me of my old days joyriding as a boy.

By turning my neck it's apparent Ette's following me with wide eyes.

"Now, I bet you're wondering in that head of yours, 'How's he gonna carry all this crap across Rocaire? He's got a busted arm!' Well, it's simple actually."

Her large ears perk up and she listens intently.

I pause for a moment. Would guess a psychic would be crawling in my head reading my mind for the answer. Ette doesn't do that. At least, I'm not aware if she does, and if she does her guise of ignorance is astounding.

She starts to get antsy, wriggles her fingers, and asks, "What?"

With a mighty throw, I lob the stuff into the truck bed. From the noise, Ette lets out an "Eeep!"

"It's rugged and practical, got a V8 too." I pop the hood to see those well-maintained intakes and tube headers and can't contain my stupid grin. "No rust in here, those cylinder heads look marvelous. Doc's good to his cars."

"That's…that's his truck…" Ette's speechless. "Y-You're going to steal his truck?"

"Borrow," I insist. "In return, I'll keep you safe until we chase down Bisharp and get the artifact back, so I can get paid. If it helps, think of all the hours you worked at the clinic. Bet you could afford an old mule like this one, no sweat."

Ette's eyes continue to blink, a clear indication of her apprehension.

"C'mon, you rather walk?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "He's very particular about his cars. I don't think he'd want us to take one even if he knew about our mission."

"Ette, do you know anything about how this piece of machinery works?"

She shakes her head.

"Well, I do. And let me tell you something." I point to the several other sports cars and collectors in the garage. "This isn't the nicest one he's got. But it'll get the job done, which is all that counts."

Without further delay I head back toward her, she hesitantly accompanies me by my side as I continue gathering useful items for the trek.

"Long ago, before he became overwhelmed by work, he used to work on his car collection," reminisces Ette. "I was younger and more mischievous. Sometimes I used to move his tools around. But then, one day, he stopped caring about them as much. I don't know why, but it made me really sad when that happened."

I'm half-listening to her, rummaging for more useful equipment near the tool bench. An axe, a wrench, a shovel, sleeping bags, tinder, lighter fluid, extra gas, bungee cords, anything that's not tied down, I toss into the truck bed.

And then I see it, underneath that camping hammock I took. An old, camo green war trunk. It's got an old padlock on it, but a quick smash from a hammer on the workbench removes that obstacle. Should bring the hammer too.

Ette jumps at the sound. "That's…it's from the Great War."

I'm preoccupied with what's in the case. Underneath the fatigues, wool coat, maps and medals, I find a scoped scouting rifle. Bolt action, not too heavy when I hold it by properly using the leather sling. The cherry wood stock has no shortage of character, it's quite dinged up from seeing use, but it's warm to the touch and just feels right, like a properly fitting glove. A blued wheel gun with an exaggerated hammer catches my eye and that revolver comes along too. There's suitable ammo for both firearms in the cache as well.

"Served in the army?" I ask, strapping the comfortable yet durable leather sidearm holster around my waist with some minor difficulty.

"A physician," she answers. "He never talked about it."

"Knew an older guy who saw combat, Eric, was it? Lost a leg. Grisly stuff, his stories were always so visceral."

Ette looks at me crossly, specifically, my cast. "If you don't want to wind up like your War-buddy, you better be sure that heals properly."

"Alright, in that case, I'll let you keep an eye on it." I place the rifle behind the seat and gesture to Ette. "Think that's everything."

While I'm opening the garage door, she puts her bag next to the gun. When I return, she is in the passenger seat playing with the keys in her hands as they knot together. "I know what we're doing is wrong, but I still feel excited about it." She grimaces at me. "You're very excited."

Maybe, but I'm also nervous about what we're about to do. Then I remember what she said before about her empathic powers. "Wait, you sayin' that's my fault?"

She telekinetically tosses the keys into my lap. "Must be, um, since I never rode in this!"

Her brutal circumspection makes me laugh. "Yeah, don't reckon a pampered princess would be riding shotgun in a mid-duty truck all too often." The engine starts up with a powerful kick. "Alright, let's take her out."

Since the lodge is built on an incline, the garage and storage cellar are facing the lake. After taking the truck out, I hop on out to shut the door and grab Morse.

He's still chilling, nibbling on that charcoal without a care.

"Hey, thanks for keeping watch. We're headin' out. Sorry, couldn't find you a ball yet."

Morse huffs and follows. He hops into the center console, where you'd put a drink or something of that nature. Ette has cozied up while I was gone. She takes one last look out the window at the lake before I turn onto the wooded road.

Driving isn't too bad with one arm. Helps nobody's out at this late hour. However, I soon realize following a vacant road makes minutes seem to go on for hours. My headlights lead way ahead, but there's just nothing out here.

Yawning, I crank down the window a bit to catch the breeze of crisp night air. Helps at first, but then the monotony comes back.

Just as my drowsiness beckons me with another unrequited pull Ette kicks her legs up on the dash.

Wakes me right up.

"Uhh…Ette?" I say, following her thighs up to her sleeping form. Head tucked comfortably against the soft head cushion, eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar, yup, she's out like a light. Morse is still awake I think, the dim glow from the flame keeps me guessing though.

Maybe I'm rocking the truck too much. My temptation to blast some music would probably result in her kicking her legs straight through the windshield or, judging how she's coiled her body with her head near the window, into my face. That'd hurt. Bet she'd be uncomfortable knowing she sleeps all spread out like this. Not that I care.

If we're going to follow the so-called fortune-teller's advice, we'll need to head north to a mountain of snow and ice. That's not very useful on its own when I think about it—Rocaire is named for the geographical rocky mountains, which divide the continent high in the air—many tall mountains have snow, especially since it's getting closer to winter. What is helpful though, is the 'jeweled crown under the moon' because that sounds like a specific location. I'll ask around about it in the scarce number of towns along the western half of the region as we make our way north through the forest, the desert, and eventually the mountains. Wouldn't be the first time a proud local gave me interesting information. When I first arrived here, I learned Rocaire is frequently referred to as the 'Sky Region' because that's the simplest translation of the name stargazing tribes who lived here long ago had for where 'Earth meets the Heavens in the Sky'. The Earth, the Sky, and the Celestial were all vitally important to the Ancients, scared even. That could be why the Ancients also called Rocaire the 'Sacred Land', though that name is much less commonly used in modern times.

Ette softly murmurs something unintelligible.

Another sign glistens in the distance, reads the next town is still 200 miles away. That's not too bad, but I'll have to stop to rest soon.

The road's empty, so, so, empty. My eyelids are so, so, heavy.

I start to fade. But then there's this jarring ululation which seems to be calling out to me. I snap my eyes open. The radio is off. I double check and look around the cabin.

Ette's still out cold. Morse hasn't budged. I'm creeped out enough where I consider shaking one of them awake.

Out the window! That's where the sound's coming from. It's like a whole choir is wailing in the sky above the truck. Except that'd be impossible. I'm doing ninety-something in the middle of the night in the middle of the desolate Rocaire wilderness.

"What the fuck is going on?" I lower the window, lay off the gas, and cruise as I stick my head out to look up.

A huge burst of light soars overhear. The blaring noise becomes an eerie screeching, as what appears to be a meteor sails right over my head.

I slam on the brakes to halt the truck and the entire front windshield is covered in the comet's blinding white light. We careen to the side of the road.

The jolt wakes up Ette, she gasps in surprise.

My eyes are fixed tracing this thing through the night. Its tail is leaving behind what looks like snow as it sails beyond the treetops. There's a flash of light and then an unsettling indigo glow from where it might have landed. "Didja see that shit? Was so close!"

"Mmrgh." Following a big yawn, Ette, grouchy as ever, replies, "I don't know, I was in the middle of a dream."

"Yeah, could tell." I grunt, "Y'sure like to pretend the whole cabin's your bed."

Her pale cheeks redden, she presses her frilly skirt down against her reclining legs and adjusts to a normal sitting position.

After checking on Morse, who, following the abrupt stop, has waddled onto the center console, I point out on the now unoccupied dash. "Think we oughta check it out. Maybe it was a meteor. Those're worth some dosh! I wonder if—"

"What!?" She cuts me off in shock.

"Money, _big_ money," I emphasize. "I got no idea whether there's meteor showers around this time of year. But I do know people will travel all over the world just to get their hands on a hunk of space junk. Think about it for a sec, if we happen to be the first ones to nab it, it'll pay off my debt."

Ette sighs. "I'm really not interested in that sort of stuff."

"Huh?"

"Nighttime makes me uneasy," she huffs. "Meteors, stars, the moon? Who in their right mind wants to go out when it's so dark?"

"Oh, y'don't like the great outdoors." Should've figured—she's got an aversion to nature befitting a pampered princess. "It's not that bad."

Ette frowns, scooching in the seat uncomfortably. "I'm not looking around in the dark for some dumb rock."

Makes me roll my eyes. "Please. That's exactly what this mission for the artifact is about when you boil it down."

Her irritated growl demonstrates how she feels just fine.

"I'm going."

"Wait," says Ette, her voice quickening, "we're already looking for one thing. Why this too? It's a waste of time. We need to find that _other_ stupid piece of junk before—"

She abruptly cuts off from where her thoughts were heading and we're left staring at each other. Morse groans, breaking the awkward moment.

"Yeah, you'll want to come too." I snatch the sling of the rifle and kick open the door.

The night air is crisp and chilly. Goosebumps form under my sleeves. I grab one of Doctor Reeves's coats from the back of the truck to throw over my shoulders. "You need a coat?" I ask.

"No. If I don't like it, I'm going back," declares Ette.

"Right, right." She can be so cold, she's probably right in her element. "Temperature's befitting an ice princess."

"Humph!" Ette pouts at my subtle remark.

What's so strange is how the trees nearby are aglow with pale light. Whatever it was, it hasn't disappeared. After readying my means of defense, I approach the ominous edge of the woods.

"Morse, Ette, do you sense anything?"

Morse swoops his head back and forth to say no.

Ette places her fingers on her ears and closes her eyes. "Mmm…no."

"Figures. We're not that lucky." My heart is pounding from anticipation. Can barely hold the rifle steady. By bracing the sling tightly around my body, I use tension to stabilize the gun.

There's a loud snap as my shoe catches on a branch. My eyes narrow, sweat forming beads on my forehead. I push through the dense bushes and enter the forest.

It's dead quiet. Not even insects are chirping. My fingers start to feel undeniably cold. And my breath begins to fog.

I turn to my ghostly light source. He's got a tough mien, but something's got his candle burning dimmer even with the charcoal. He gives me a perplexed look and points.

Ette is—nowhere to be found. "Shit. Did she seriously chicken out?"

All of a sudden my knees feel weak. The temperature has plummeted. There's a glowing fog up ahead, pooling in a hidden grove of some sort, beckoning to me. A shadow darts beneath the miasma.

I take aim, my heart is pounding out of my chest. Only the natural wood furniture of the rifle isn't ice cold, while the metal components of the receiver and barrel have developed a very ominous, misty rime on them. Curiously, my finger traces the strange winter afflicting the bolt handle. "The hell is this…? Frost? Here?"

My mind considers running, but my legs are frozen. The swirling miasma hovering above the grotto pools together forming colorful lights. This isn't normal. No, there's some monster at work behind this.

There's a sharp pain in my chest as I consider what to do. Do I shoot at it? Have Morse napalm it?

His fire feels like the only source of heat left. My teeth rattle from the supernatural cold. I'm anchored in a mixture of fear, frost, and observance.

At the center of the bright merging mists, a four-legged figure appears. Its azure tails writhe like open flames behind its lean form. I quickly count them and realize there are nine.

Ninetales. Great. My hand lowers the rifle's muzzle. I'm not here to bring a fight.

The icy fox's diamond eyes follow me. It paces forward, then burrows its front paws in the icy dirt, waiting expectantly.

I don't take my eyes off the mythical critter. In a low voice, I ask Morse, "Can you communicate with it?"

He waves his arms, flickers his light, and pops a few wax bubbles too. I have no idea what he's doing. But if it prevents us from winding up as some Kitsune's ice pops, I'm all for it.

The beast opens its mouth, producing a whining noise, like a soft scream.

Are they communicating? Can all monsters talk with one another? I just don't know. The whole thing is too mysterious for me to wrap my head around.

"You get through?"

Morse nods, hesitantly.

"Uh-oh."

Ninetales begins to growl bad-temperedly as it lowers its head.

"What's it sayin'?" I have a feeling it isn't good.

In a short burst of fire-symbology, he tells me, "Angry."

"At what?" My palm gripping the wood of the rifle becomes clammy, both sweaty and cold.

Morse tries to communicate something to me, but it's a new gesture I've never seen him do. It looks like he's getting ready to run.

I glare at the fox and muster a firm voice. "Don't be angry, we'll be going." Without turning my back on the creature, I walk rearward. However, the back of my head bumps into a willowy tree branch and my withdrawal procession pauses.

That's when the creature makes its move. With uncanny swiftness, the fox jaunts through the mist.

Morse lobs a few firecrackers in the direction of the sprinting fox. All of them are reflected by a round, invisible shield around it, which lights up blue like the fox's coat when one goes off.

With deft movements, the fox springs over Morse, covering most of his short body in a mound of snow left in the wake. Then it does a strange zig-zag walk toward me, its glistening eyes unrelenting in their certitude.

Shit! My hand fumbles to fire the rifle, the supernatural cold paralyzes my trigger finger.

It jumps right at my heart, opening its jaw wide like it's going to take an extra bite out of my healing arm.

I slam my whole damn frost-bitten finger through the trigger guard and jerk back to raise the barrel at the leaping monster.

Two things happen very quickly. First, the rifle goes off with a bright bang. Next, I'm knocked onto my ass by the fox's charge.

Sharp ringing through my ears disorients me and the fox as well. But the creature quickly recovers since the bullet missed. With a precision Ice Beam, it flash-freezes the rifle's bolt mechanism. Then it gets right up in my face, snarling and baying.

I struggle for a bit. My arm manages to interpose the butt of the rifle between the fox's maw and my neck. "Get offa me, y'stupid fox!"

"_Her name is Nanu."_

My eyes go wide. The telepathic voice in my head, that's new. It's effeminate, like Ette, though it's difficult to pick up on anything besides that since I've been pinned.

"Nanu?!" I repeat the name she conveyed directly to my brain.

Ninetales's snapping jaw pauses to remain open as she howls, hearing her name. Her front paws kneed at my clothes. The blue fox has taken up most of my vision, and her fluffy tails block much of the forest behind her.

"Who…? How…?" The only psychic I can think of is Ette. She's nowhere to be seen, and my right-hand monster is currently pulling himself out of a snowbank covering everything but his flame. Meanwhile, Nanu's snout jabs at my ribs, while she whacks her surprisingly strong tails against my legs.

"_She's only playing."_ Unlike normal speech, her telepathic words have this bizarre way of forming indeterminate echoes. This resonating results in her telepathic voice acquiring a sort of strange familiarness to it, its resounding vibrations through my skull settle on sounding just like Ette's voice in my mind.

Nanu continues to toy with my prone body like some sort of overgrown dog would. Though, if this is considered playful then I would never want to know her being rough.

"Ugh…stop…get offa me!" I can't be caught laughing at this thing nuzzling me and making me all ticklish. But whenever I try to hoist myself up, Nanu pins me back down with the weight of her paws. I'm stuck, and she knows it.

"_She wants your help,"_ communicates her voice straight into my skull.

"Ette, this isn't funny! How do you even know Nanu?"

Nanu perches herself smugly on the ground, finally releasing me. She lets out a big yawn and raises her paw to rub her coat.

Managing to stand back up, I dust the snow off my clothes.

Morse flips his body out of the snow with panache.

"_Collect the mini meteor, Minior,"_ indicates her voice in my head. _"Nanu will be your guide."_

Nanu nods her head. She leaves her seated position and begins to walk to the left of the grotto.

I'm tired out and just want to sleep, plus something tells me I shouldn't go chasing mythical monsters in the woods who just happen to be friends with my hostage. Nevertheless, Ette is nowhere to be seen. I don't think she's ever used telepathy on me like that, unless it happened when I was unconscious in the hospital. That's how she must've got my name.

Nanu looks at me expectantly.

"Mini…meteor? Minior?" A light goes on in my head. "Could it be related to that comet we saw?"

Nanu barks, pointing one of her viciously twisting tails.

Before following her, I kneel next to my buddy. "Morse, y'alright?"

Glibly he slides down the mound of snow, wearing a wide grin that knows no fear. I consider asking him to locate Ette, but that would leave me alone with the fox. If Ette is remotely communicating, maybe she doesn't want to deal with Nanu. My theory feels shaky however.

"Nanu?" I say, walking near. "Why do you need my help?"

Nanu does not answer though the sounds of nocturnal creatures return once we leave the grotto. She continues to move through the thickets. Those tails of hers blow in every direction as she saunters along, freezing whatever their tips touch with the grace of a fountain pen. Nine of them, all lashing, transforming the woods into an artist's canvas.

"Morse, if I don't make it outta here, you better give Ette a smack for ditching us."

He gives me a look that says "Okay."

We give Nanu some distance since the branches her tails flash-freeze become obstacles.

Ahead, a pale light beckons us. That's when we see it in a clearing. It's a conspicuous rock in a crater. Five peaks on its star-shaped body emit a glow, resembling the reflective white summits of ice-covered mountains.

Nanu springs to the edge of the dip in the earth. Her gaze is fixed on the fallen star.

Strange how illuminated its core is inside its exterior shell. I wonder if it's hot. Or maybe it's radioactive. With a bright blue aura like that, I'd reckon it'd be capable of dishing out some energy attacks. I've already had some bad luck losing strange artifacts thanks to Ette. In that regard, it's good she's not here. Nevertheless, her telekinesis would really come in handy right about now.

As I'm speculating, Nanu growls at me. Her tails waver like tattered flags blown in the arctic wind surrounding her.

"Yeah, definitely a meteor, or rather, meteorite," I say. "A mini one too." What a strange name for a strange object. Just when I reach the ditch, the glowing rock begins to wobble on its own! "Whoa! This thing's alive?!" It's a monster to be sure, but not one of this world.

Nanu exhales a cloud of mist, remaining cautiously seated on the perimeter of the crater. Her gait tells me she's anxious about something. Could this living rock be hazardous to a mythical ice creature like her?

Morse shuffles to the edge as well. The three of us wait. The worst thing is how slight and insignificant this meteorite appears, would've thought an object that lit up half the sky would be a little bigger. It's roughly the size of a boot, with a rocky shell covering its plasma-blue center. Not very menacing on its own, but the light it emits is more unnatural than Morse's and that's saying something.

"Well." I look at my two companions. "What're we gonna do to collect it? I don't have any capture orbs…"

Nanu snarls menacingly.

My shoulders sink. "I don't think that's gonna scare it into coming with us, Nanu."

The strange rock monster shudders. It starts to run away.

"Crap! After it!" I exclaim.

The three of us chase it through the woods. It's surprisingly slippery, weaving through the trees to lose us. As it runs, it sets in its wake copious sharp rocks and unnavigable debris. Those Stealth Rock traps trip Nanu up. She stumbles in front of me. I stub my foot on a rock that appears out of nowhere too, and curse in sharp pain.

I go to help Nanu up, but she swiftly flicks her tails away from my palm and growls irately.

"Sheesh, sorry," I mutter. "Wasn't gonna tug your tails."

Her livid leer suggests doing that would be the end of me.

Morse trailblazes on ahead. He's spitting chunks of whatever he's made of in front of him, coating the jagged rocks with his ectoplasm to make for a traversable path. He reabsorbs it by running over the trail.

Nanu manages to outrun me, I follow her tracks of frost-covered branches, and Morse not far ahead helps me see when I'm going.

Eventually, the Minior reaches a stream obstructing its path. The flowing water appears to frighten it even more than us. It tucks itself in, turtling inside its crusty shell.

I'm just relieved we caught up with the little devil.

We're a company with various strengths. Morse's got his fire and spectral powers, Nanu is a magical ice fox, while I'm a one-armed guy toting an antique war rifle. Yet this target of ours is otherworldly. None of us know what it's capable of when cornered.

"I'm gonna try 'n sneak up onnit," I whisper. Does it even have eyes? Can't tell with that tough rock shell around it. "You two flank either side, case it runs."

Nanu and Morse slip into position, the three of us forming a wide triangle. Minior appears oblivious, but then again, it's a cosmic rock. Not sure what it senses.

"A'ight." I steel myself, set down the scout rifle, and remove my coat. Going to use it like a cloth sack. "Three steps to carry out, real quick-like. First, Morse, stun it with Confuse Ray so it doesn't run. Then, I'll toss the coat over it to keep it in one place. Lastly, Nanu, freeze it so it gets trapped inside."

They seem to understand what I say. Nodding, Morse takes a chomp out of the charcoal, while Nanu bobs her head down as ice crystals form near her mouth.

My focus shifts back to Minior. "Count of three. One, two…three!"

Morse shells out a gold glob of wax in a high arch. The ordnance hits Minior, the same way it nailed Russel, exploding like a piñata full of sparks. Seeing Minior dazed from the artillery, I rush forward and drape the coat over the swaying meteorite. It doesn't stop squirming under the fabric, but I manage to scoop it up by sweeping my hand under the hapless monster. Nanu's jet of ice crackles next to my ear, the ray of frost covers the makeshift cloth bag in a clear layer, half a palm's thickness, right up to its neck.

"Easy-peasy." Wearing a satisfied grin, I set it down, rapping my knuckles on the slab of ice surrounding the coat. But what's next?

Nanu springs toward me, she brushes against the side of my pants and picks up the unfrozen neck of the sack in her maw.

"Well, there's your mini meteor." I shake my head, almost expecting to hear her telepathy thank me. However, Ette hardly seems the type to express gratitude. I guess that's fair, I still owe her a lot for giving me a chance to settle my hospital debt on my own terms. But how the hell does she know Nanu? Would never have guessed she'd be acquainted with magical woodland creatures, considering how domesticated she is. Something about all this doesn't feel right. Need to be careful.

Silently, Nanu turns around, a dutiful mien and steadfast gait take ownership of her fleeting form. She's carrying Minior as though her life depends on it. Morse and I follow her back towards the chilly grotto by the side of the road. I shiver at the thought of going back there without wearing a coat.


	6. Chapter 6: The Forest's Moonlight

Chapter 6: The Forest's Moonlight

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Our trek back through the woods is uneventful and cold. The brisk night air, dense foliage, and uneven terrain wears Morse and me down. Nanu, the blue Ninetales, is significantly less spry than when we met not long ago, undoubtedly due to her carrying a hefty half-frozen overcoat containing our valuable bounty from the sky – a violet Minior.

Eventually, Morse's light competes with another. That's how I know we're almost back at the grotto. And though my body anticipates the same arctic chill from before, I realize that might have been Nanu. Monsters can change the weather and temperature around them. It's not so uncommon for them to manipulate nature, albeit in a much different way than humans.

We reach the cave near the grotto of water reflecting the moonlight through the mist. There's a lithe figure with her back turned. It looks just like…

"Ette!" I exclaim. "Hey, why the hell'd you disappear?"

Strangely, she doesn't answer. I'd expect her to have thoroughly prepared some sharp quip about leaving her alone.

"C'mon, what's a'matter with you?" Is something wrong with her? She's not moving.

Nanu pauses as well. She appears to respectfully bow her head.

I glance at Morse, who looks as clueless as I am. "Wait, wasn't she supposed to head back to the truck?" I ask him, to which he nods.

"Uh…Ette, y'alright?" Still nothing. Now I'm getting freaked out. "Quit it with the cold shoulder act already! Don't play games with us, I wanna know if you're okay!"

There's a nonchalant laughter as the telepathic voice drops her pretense of Ette's familiar vocalizations. _"She's fine. Mostly."_

My eyes go wide. "What the hell…Ette, the voice in my head isn't you?"

The strange glowing mist from before has begun to cohere around Ette. However, the telepathic, insouciant laughs are not coming from a physical place. Rather they're deep inside my senses, the source might as well be so far inside my eardrums it's my own brain.

"Get outta my head…!" My body struggles to rid itself of the sickening sensation, sweating profusely all the while. But how do I fight something this close to my mind?

"_You've done a great favor, collecting the Minior that fell. And without using the suppression spheres. There's not even a hint of their tainted power."_

"Suppression spheres?" My forehead is on fire. "What're you talking about?"

"_You're not one of the humans who gather monsters the way I thought."_

It clicks. "You don't mean, pocket balls?"

"_Mhm, I requested you to collect it,"_ she says directly to my mind,_ "and the result—mmm—it's still fresh, untainted by your kind's vices. How could you've known my desires so exactly?"_

"Known _what_ now?" I wonder with increasing distress.

"_You're no psychic, but the odds of you not using those orbs."_ It sounds as though she's plotting something nefarious._ "Maybe—maybe you are different. Makes me interested."_

Through my foggy vision, I see Nanu move. That's right, she can't hear the telepathy in my head! She's got no idea we're not alone. "Wait, Nanu, something's here!" I warn. "Stop!"

Nanu doesn't seem the least bit concerned as she trots up past Ette and toward the cavern behind her.

Morse's flickering flame catches my attention from the corner of my eye. He points at Ette, the silvery spotlight of the moon in her hair, and spells out with fire-code "SOS."

He's right! Nanu can take care of herself, I have to help Ette!

I've had it! I rush toward her. Frantically, I stick my arm through her long hair and grasp her slender shoulder. "Ette! Ette! Snap outta it!" I try shaking her. But she doesn't react. She's trapped, in suspended animation. When I look at her face, all I can see is an expression of shock frozen in time. She's helpless, and I don't understand why. "What the hell'd you do to her?!" I shout at the mist.

"_She's in awe, rapture, all by a force in nature she has yet to comprehend. An antithesis to the way your kind kept her in miniature pens for petty amusement."_

Her antagonistic vitriol regarding capture balls makes it all too apparent. "You're a monster too then!" I deduce.

Irritating laughter fills my cranium again. _"Bravo, human. As if my telepathy wasn't enough to give it away. Though, I could not resist toying with you once you confused me for your broken pet."_

"Bullshit," I retort, "Ette ain't my pet. D'ya really think I'm a trainer? Guess again. Divorced that life, no love lost."

"_Ah, but she IS broken, isn't she?"_ The female voice chuckles. _"And, judging by your response, so are you."_

"Hmph. Can't argue with the second part." I tap my knuckles on my cast. "You're dead wrong about Ette though."

"_Oh?"_

"She's bit of a weirdo." I set my shoulder against Ette's side so we won't get jumped. Morse deliberately shuffles into position to cover my blind spot. "But she's not broken."

"_Domesticated by humans to the point where she's forgotten her roots."_ The telepathic voice sighs inside my head, producing a disorienting sensation since it feels like I'm sighing._ "Her powers don't even work. The light of the moon is so foreign to her, its sway holds her in complete rapture. A grave disappointment. She's turned her back on nature."_

"Enough talk. Read my lips: Let. Her. Go!" I demand.

"_I'd be thrilled to,"_ she says ambiguously.

Nanu's tails begin to dance though there's no wind. Something else is inside that cave. Don't know how, but I sense it.

"We got you your damn meteor!" I raise my voice along with the rifle. The cold air starts to return.

"_So you did."_ Her whimsical attitude is grating my nerves. _"In a most…unusual fashion you've kept the Minior and the dust within pure."_

"What?" I scoff. "Not even a thank you? C'mon, didn't have to help."

"_No, you didn't."_ She chuckles. _"I suppose I owe you a suitable reward."_

From far within the dark hole of the grotto appears an obscure figure. It's human in shape, but rather slender. As it takes a few steps toward us, what little color left in the world at this late hour drains from my vision.

My blood freezes as I realize the figure is the same species as Ette. However, because Ette is so human-like, this other version of her appears much more gamely. Her outfit is fashioned of what looks like silk, its low-cut top exposes the nape of her neck. She's wearing these strange flowers, they're tubular, bell-shape, thumb-size flowers, densely packed together on stalks wrapped like vines around her. It's almost like they're growing on her body and clothes which unsettles me. Those profuse Foxglove stems form a small crown in her hair, the larger stalks run along her arms and between the wide slits of her dress exposing her legs.

Nanu prances closer to the side of her long, flowing gown, and delivers the coat with Minior inside.

Her willowy arms snatch the cloak from Nanu. Beneath her bangs, her eyes illuminate, their blood red luster is the only color I can see. Everything about her is dark and eerie.

"So, you're the source of the voice," I say hollowly.

She walks through the mist sparkling in the silver light of the moon, approaching us with a certain swagger to her gait. The ice coating Minior's prison has begun to melt and the flowery stalks draping down the length of her arm brush against it. Those petals of the lethal bells, with speckled interiors, become glossy from the thawing water, swaying with her every embellished motion toward us. The coat starts to wriggle, a sign that Minior is kicking to break free. Her fingers grip the detaining sack tightly, and she hums a satisfied, _"Mmhm."_

My rifle is fixed on her, yet my muscles become weak the closer she gets. Soon I can't keep my good arm steady from the tingling numbness. Even though the sling keeps me from dropping the gun, the barrel's dancing all over the place.

Aware of her influence over my limbs, she chides, wearing a coy smirk, _"Humans and their steel-spitters. Your tools never cease to appall."_

Stubbornly, I press against Ette and use her waist for some support on the buttstock to keep the muzzle trained on the flower-wearing creature. "What—Who're you?"

Her head cocks to the side, shorter hair swaying just above her narrow shoulders. She deliberately opens her mouth in a seductive fashion. Pulling out all the stops, her provocative allure unsettles me.

I blink and she vanishes from sight. We're pointing the gun at a cloud of glowing, neon petals in the mist. Where the fuck did her body go?

"_Seraphinea,"_ she whispers telepathically. A bitter, wafting floral scent catches my nose. Something warm presses against my back on the left side. I turn and meet her large red eyes. _"—Sera's fine too."_

She teleported right behind me! I recoil from shock and bump my head right into Ette's. The good news is that knock to the noggin seems to snap Ette out of her trance. She mumbles something unintelligible next to my other ear. Bad news is the warmth of Seraphinea's heart crystal sticking out of her chest is digging into the elbow of my cast and starting to feel uncomfortable. I'm stuck between them both. Can't even move the rifle with my weakened muscles.

"Sera," I groan, "y'don't gotta be so close."

"_I do now that you mention it. Besides, aren't you close to your pet as well?"_ she posits wearing a prurient smirk.

I growl. "Already told you, she's not my—!"

"Alv…?" murmurs Ette from my right side.

"_She's stirring!"_ As if Seraphinea didn't know. We're less than a foot apart. Her excited laughter echoing in my skull is downright chilling.

"Buzz off, would you," I tell Sera. I don't care about the money anymore, I just want to get out of here in one piece. "We got what you asked for. So take your meteor and leave us alone."

"What—What's happened? Who is—?" Great, now Ette's asking questions. She's not the only one with them.

Seraphinea slowly creeps her right arm up along my cast toward the back of my neck. Those cold, damp flowers she's wearing touch my skin and send a shiver down my spine. Her other arm slides along my waist, wrapping me in her embrace.

The action surprises me, and with a jolt, I accidentally touch my finger to the side of her heart crystal. It's slick and hot, like tempered glass with a radiator within.

"_Did I startle you?"_ asks Sera. Her shuddering and shameless gasp leads to an eager grin. _"Because you startled me just now."_

"Enough—" My hand jerks back as Sera tugs my finger toward her lips. "That's enough!"

She laughs directly into my head. With frightening strength belying her slender form, she forces herself against me.

"Dammit, what're you doing?" I say in a stupor. "I'm not interested in this."

Sera squeezes on my shoulder, blowing floral perfume of her dangerous flowers over my ear. _"But I know your body is."_

"Piss off," I huff, attempting to regain my shaken composure. "Ette, help me out here. She's one of your err—" Come to think of it, anatomy aside, Sera and Ette are nothing alike. In fact, they couldn't be more different. One is pampered, masquerading as a human nurse, and the other is a passion-driven fey creature from deep in the woods. I don't think Sera can speak aloud like Ette. And Ette won't use telepathy like Sera. "—Just, help me out here."

"M-Me?!" cries Ette. She's mad, no question. Her voice rises in pitch. "You're the one who's turned on by her behavior!"

"It isn't like that." I try to explain to her hysteria. "She froze you and got me to do her bidding, thinking she was you with telepathy and—"

"What!" screeches Ette. "You thought I was her? How? Are you stupid? I can't even—" She abruptly stops her rant, afraid to say whatever she was about to. "Enough! I want to go home!"

Sera chuckles. _"My, my. The two of you are so delightful. I couldn't possibly let you go."_

She's like one of those damn carnivorous plants, twisting her vine-like arms around us both to hold us hostage. I really want to get out of this situation. However, pulling away from Sera brings me closer to Ette, and then Sera gets in closer to the both of us. How do we escape her?

Ette shakes my shoulder. "Just what's going on?! I don't know how I got here, and woke up to seeing the two of you grinding like monsters in heat right next to me! You perverted prick—"

"—_Shh."_ Sera covers Ette's mouth with her hand. _"All of us are gathered together under the sacred silver light—there's no need for struggle or strife."_

Ette's expression drastically changes from smug to scared. Muffled by Sera, her terrified noises make me grimace at the thought of what this psycho has in store for us.

This isn't good. I look to Morse to bail us out, but there's a loud blow as Nanu kicks him hard with her rear legs, sending him flying through the mist and into the trees.

Fuck. Not good.

Ette tries to yelp, but Sera's hand is too much of a muzzle on her. Ette's eyes go wide in peril.

If things weren't already bad enough, Nanu gambols toward us, a trail of frost billowing in her wake. She crawls beneath Sera's white gown, brushes the side of my leg with her cold coat.

"_There's something about you. No, about the two of you. You share something powerful, I can sense its presence, it's something I don't want to let go of."_ A smile appears on Sera's face as she squeezes and chuckles to herself. _"Hmm…let go…"_

Is she talking about the artifact we both held? "Sucks to be you, we don't have what you're looking for." My heart rate spikes as my fight-or-flight response kicks in extra strong. "So get out of here and go fuck yourself!"

"_That won't do."_ Her glare turns menacing.

Nanu growls beneath us. What the hell is she up to? As I move my leg, her frigid tail coils around my ankle. Then two more lash around my other leg, the supernatural cold goes straight through my clothes.

As I try to look down at the fox giving me frostbite, Seraphinea thrusts her head in front of my gaze. Those pupils of hers appear to be dilating by the second. It's entrancing. I feel as though I'm looking deep into a well, a bottomless pit, an abyss that pulls me inexorably toward it like a black hole in deep space.

"Don't…" I try to tell her to stop, but my jaw goes slack as the chill rising through my body from Nanu's tails reaches my heart making my breaths freeze.

"_Tell me,"_ urges Sera.

What?

"_Say it, use your voice and tell me!"_ she insists.

The hell is she talking about? My voice? I'm barely able to breathe and she expects me to talk?

Sera's hypnotizing eyes take up my whole vision, and I feel weak. My entire body is shutting down, like the very last moments before drifting to sleep.

"_Fine, then I'll – she'll help you along."_ She backs off me, then tugs on Ette and lets her lips loose.

Seeing her freed from Sera's choking spurs a strength in my heart and pushes back against Nanu's biting chill circulating up from my legs. "Ette!"

As she gasps for air, she turns to me. Her eyes are watering. "W-Why is it so c-cold?"

"_What a joyful reunion."_ Sera over-dramatically pushes us closer together. _"Despite winter's grasp, your inner warmth warms my heart."_

What the hell is she talking about? She's the one who put us in this situation in the first place!

"_As a reward, I'll honor your one request. But, it has to be something you both want, that's the only condition."_

Does she think we're stupid?! I don't believe her at all.

"_All you have to do is tell me what you want most."_ There's a ravenous look in Sera's crimson eyes. _"I want to feel those emotions, every fibrous tendril of your connection."_

Unexpectedly, Nanu's tails tighten on my ankles, causing an involuntary muscle spasm. My legs jolting tugs on her tails, and, by thrashing, I manage to shove Ette and Sera. But suddenly that awful coldness comes surging back through my veins.

There's only one thing I want as the chill spreads up my body again: Out. Out of this nightmare and anywhere else. At the same time as Ette, we both exclaim, "LET GO!"

"_Ooh, if that's what you both want—"_ Were the smirk on the fairy's face not a clear indication of malicious intent, the advancing frost from Nanu's tails makes it obvious something bad is about to happen _"—then I have an idea."_

Ette and I glance at each other with uneasy 'we messed up' expressions.

Sera's smile widens. _"Such similar feelings you share with each other. How could I ignore something like that? Honestly, you could have phrased it better, but—"_ she simpers _"—I'll see what we can do to…let you go. Or maybe…I won't."_

"The hell's that supposed to mean?"

But Sera doesn't answer, her heart is aglow, giving off so much heat she arches her body back as if overcome by it.

That's when I see the real problem. Looking down, there's Nanu. Her body is glowing like silver moonlight despite being in the cover of our shadows. As for her nine tails, three each are coiled around the legs of the three of us.

"Oh, fuck this!" Now I know for sure we screwed up.

Just when my knees are about to give out from the binding cold linking us, a bright flare ignites behind Sera. Sharp color suddenly returns to the world, and a brilliant orange light illuminates the lavender bells coiled in Sera's hair. Her pale cheeks sink into a scowl.

Nanu's hold on us releases, as she leaps to defend Sera from Morse's onslaught of fireballs. Sera turns her head to look. With her finally out of my face, it's easy to see Morse. My pal is firing flame bullets like a machine gun, however, his attacks are intercepted by Nanu's equally strong ice missiles.

"Morse!" I exclaim. "Right on, buddy! Give 'em hell!"

Sera angrily turns back at me. Her left arm snakes around my cast, tugging my elbow into her bosom. Her crystal is aglow with fiery heat, it's radiating like an open oven. My cloth bandages start to char, releasing a repugnant odor. My reflex is to tug away.

But that brings me closer to Ette, which is exactly what Sera wants. Deftly, she uses her right arm positioned behind my neck to pry Ette's surprised mouth ajar with two of her fingers.

"Mph!" Ette tries to speak, but Sera's fingers delve into her mouth with frightening quickness. The bell flowers coiled around her wrist are about to rub against Ette's lips as Seraphinea forces her way through. Ette gasps and trembles violently against my side. Soon her panicked sounds are cut off by Sera muffling her.

My first thought is to push my head back to keep her from choking Ette. I arch my shoulders back to make it harder for Sera to reach Ette. My collar is met with the cold, damp flowers on Sera's arm. Nevertheless, I persist, using the back of my spine to prevent Sera from shoving her hand down Ette's throat.

"_Why so much resistance?"_ asks Seraphinea in faux innocence. _"Aren't you curious to see what comes next?"_

"Keep yer fucking hands to yourself!" I bark.

"_Very well,"_ says Sera, deviously running the tip of her tongue across pursed lips. _"In that case—"_

Oh shit, I said the wrong thing to this wood-dwelling psychopath. She opens her mouth and lunges at the front of my exposed neck. Sera's already sapped all my strength. I can barely stand. Involuntarily, I wince, expecting her to bite my throat out like the monster she is. Next thing I know she's got her teeth on my Adam's apple. Initially, the sensation is chill-inducing. Her hair gets right under my nose too, filling my nostrils with a piquant aroma.

"…!" Trying to yell out does me no good, I just wind up with more of Sera's hair in places I don't want. Involuntary convulsions of my larynx make it worse. All my struggling is turning her on, her body's getting warmer as she thrusts harder against me while chewing viciously at my throat.

Ette's squirming hysterically next to me, knocking the rifle's stock with her hip. She gets both hands on Sera's wrist in a desperate attempt to free her mouth from the gag of Sera's fingers. The promising ray of hope that Ette can fend Sera off and save me fades to portentous faintness as I become lightheaded.

Nanu barks loudly. From what little I can see over Sera's head, Nanu's defeated Morse by burying him in a mound of snow.

This isn't how I want it to end. I find the strength to raise my good arm. With it, I try tugging Sera's ear away. It's soft between my fingers, but I wrench as rough as possible. She moans telepathically, inching further down my neck. I yank again and again at her, desperate to break her off my airway. It's having the opposite effect. She's biting harder at my flesh; her whole body is feverish and grinding against mine.

While we're locked in this lecherous back-and-forth, Nanu won't stop barking. Eventually, she gets Sera's attention. Her head arches back, her mouth leaves my neck with a gleaming trail of fluid reflecting the moonlight that refuses to break. She peers up at me with these wild, dilated eyes and smiles diabolically.

"_You're still alive, lovely."_ The poisonous petals of the bells on her arm brush my collar bone. _ "Humans never last long enough to survive my embrace unless I want them to. I'd say this was a success."_

Shit, is that my fucking blood on her teeth?! My skin burns like alcohol on an open wound. Rushing my palm to clasp my neck, which is soaked and rare, I split the link between us.

"_You can't let go of me."_ Sera's bone-chilling laughter fills my head once more as she burrows her hand underneath mine to touch my raw neck. Her prodding fingertips align with the sharp bite marks, pressing inward and causing mind-shattering pain.

I want to holler from the agony, but I can't even do that.

"_Don't you dare, you can't leave me."_ Her sickening mirth won't stop echoing in my skull. My fever's getting worse. I start shaking uncontrollably and my eyes lose their focus. Just when I am about to pass out, her hand leaves my neck, wet with hot blood, my blood. She tastes it from her fingers and leers. _"There. I'll be back for more."_

Sera abruptly turns, releasing me and Ette. We collapse together onto the ground. Ette wheezes, gasping for air. All my senses come flooding back at once as my heartbeat drums violently against the inner walls of my skull.

What the hell did she do to me? Shit, I don't feel good at all. This is bad. Real fucking bad. I can't see clearly. It's like looking through a fog, or a mirage, the colors are all bleeding together like a kaleidoscope. I can't tell what I'm seeing is even real.

Through the haze, Nanu's gesturing to the Minior about to escape from the no longer frozen coat.

"_Perfect."_ Seraphinea picks up the writhing cloth, holding it close to her core. Drops of a disgusting mixture from my blood and her saliva run down her chin from her ajar mouth, falling upon her chest. Her heart crystal is unquestionably brighter than before. The liquid seems to make it pulse with greater power, but my eyes are so messed up, so saturated by color, I'm not sure if it's an illusion. However, when Sera glares hungrily at me all the symptoms that something's wrong are suppressed by an unbearable stinging in my throat. _"You were a delicious appetizer."_

"The fucking fuck is your problem!?" I want to shout, but my voice is gone. I cough, which sends an agonizing jolt through my neck. Pain's so bad it gives me vertigo. My forehead is burning up too. Blots of vivid colors continue to dance around Sera's willowy form. I know in my mind they shouldn't be there, but my eyes still see them. Terror washes over me. I feel extremely dizzy, it's not just from blood loss. I'm seeing shit, hallucinating. She infected me with God knows what disease.

Sera continues to hold the trapped Minior close to her crystal. The small monster starts to make a high-pitch squeal reminiscent of the sound it made flying over the truck. Sera's bloodlust smirk widens as the thing wails in suffering. It's like a screaming baby, all I want is for it to stop.

"Ette," I gasp in a raspy, barely audible voice, "we gotta…gotta get outta here…can you move?"

Visibly shaken, Ette nods her head. The sheer gravity of terror is apparent, I see it vividly written on her face. Deep green clouds obscure my vision of her. What the fuck? It's getting worse. Rubbing my eyes doesn't make it go away. Not even tears brought on by my neck burning so bad clear the color illusions, in fact they make it worse.

However, the wound she gave my neck isn't the only thing burning. Minior is crying because it is getting cooked by Sera's red heart. A heat mirage rises from Sera's core and forces the five glowing peaks try to push out from its outer shell being turned into a pressure cooker. To my abject horror, Sera gnaws at the squirming innards as the critter inside the stone tries to escape.

I feel sick. Beyond sick. My whole body convulses from seeing the damn thing suffer.

I must stop her. The rifle, it's right between us on the grass. I can't use it, nor the revolver—not with my vision distorted—I'd miss for sure. "Point it at her," I wheeze in distress.

Ette's eyes go wide in alarm.

Doesn't she fucking get it? "Or we're dead," I grunt.

Ette's serious mien returns as she hoists the worn rifle in her hands. I'm relieved her firm sense of duty, the no-nonsense attitude of the nurse I met at the clinic is still there.

"Attagirl, right at her." Even though my eyesight is all screwed up, it's obvious Ette's not hesitating. She knows its life or death. I sense she's angry too. Positively got a murderous fiery red aura around her. Can't imagine why.

Nanu does what I anticipate to protect Sera, she fires a preemptive blast of ice at the gun.

Initially Ette jumps as the receiver becomes coated with frost. The barrel grows icicles too. However, the natural wood remains unenchanted by her move.

"Hold it!" I implore. "Don't drop it!"

Seeing the metal covered in a sheath of ice makes Nanu pause, cock her head, and give a yawn. She's so smug and certain from last time that's the way to disable it. And while it's true the bolt won't properly cycle since the breech is sealed by ice, I know it's got a live round in the chamber.

Ette keeps the gun trained on target, then gives me a look that says, "What now?"

We've got one shot. My hand leaves my neck to reach for the trigger. In my heated delirium, I leer in Sera's direction and spit, "How 'bout some lead for dessert, bitch?"

The blast rends the silent air. The scent of gun smoke fills the moonlit grotto.

Did we hit?

Clutching her chest, Sera drops like a feather to the ground. Nanu rushes to her side in a panic.

That's our cue. My legs wobble as I stand. I pull Ette up by her hand. She's still weak, and I've got blood from my neck running down my shirt. I raise my brow and direct towards the truck. "Go! I'll get Morse."

Ette shakes her head defiantly. "I'm going too."

"You can't even walk."

"You're one to talk."

Arguing with her gets us nowhere. I stumble deliriously toward Morse, barely able to maintain my balance. He's buried in a snowbank, like before, but his flame is nearly out. I swat away the powder frantically to save his life. Even if he's a ghost, his essence is still tied to a corporeal object which could be extinguished.

He hops free. His usually cheery disposition is fought with worry as he looks at me. "Hurry! Back to the truck!" I tell him.

Three of us start moving, then there's an intense burst of light. I look back at where it came from and see Sera glowing under a tunnel of light reaching up to the moon.

My jaw drops. Seriously? How'd something so frail survive a bullet to the heart?

Surrounded by the lunar light, Sera drops a rocky shell with a hole punched through it next to Nanu.

Then it dawns on me. The Minior. She used it as a shield. But then, that means, the thing she's holding, that glowing star next to her heart, is the core of Minior?

Sera senses I'm looking at her, and grins maliciously in my direction. Her eyes gleam, the glow they emit resembles two full moons staring at me.

Suddenly my muscles freeze all at once. My senses are miles away from my body. I'm stuck. Locked in place. Unable to even blink.

With a knowing smirk, Sera acknowledges my predicament as the pale moonlight leaves her glare. _"You're unable to resist…these are MY woods. I can't have you pretending to do what I can."_

What's she talking about? How'd her powers freeze me in place?

"_Don't you see? You and her are both susceptible to my Imprison."_

That doesn't make sense!

"_Oh? You didn't?"_ Sera laughs as the light of the Minior core reflects off her heart._ "I made sure to give you enough to expose you to my power."_

Is she insane?!

"_Oh, you'll make a fine pet of my own, human. Soon, soon your rapture will be like nothing you've ever seen."_

Sera brings the lavender core of Minior to her bloodstained lips. Her red eyes glisten like her crystal the closer it gets.

No way. She's going to—

Sera pulls it into her mouth. The core loses its star shape, warping into a stretched, milky plasma as she ravenously gorges on it.

I feel sick watching. That poor monster. Its first visit to earth and it gets eaten alive by Seraphinea. What've I done? I brought the thing to her. Dammit. My heart sinks. I've made a terrible mistake. This isn't what I ever wanted to do. I wanted to help monsters, not lead them straight to the slaughterhouse!

Seraphinea finishes the core; her eyes roll back. That crystal heart points straight up at the moon as her back arches. The flower stems on her gown flare out behind her, blown by a powerful wind from the heavens. Sera's tattered gown expands, turning black. The flowers she wears bulge and swell to twice their size along with her transformation. With a shrill that shakes me to my bones, the front of her heart splits in two. Her ears morph as well, curling around their peaks.

Did she just evolve?

Sera's new form levitates off the ground slightly. Everything about her is aglow. Even her dark dress is radiating energy. She gently lands on the bed of flowers. And the ones she's wearing quiver as if they're alive and feeding off her tremendous power. She exhales, taking in the new experience. Her dark silk covered arm pets Nanu's head as she basks at her side. Then her eyes snap open, directly at me. To my horror, her red irises are surrounded by a violet aura, the same color as the Minior she consumed!

"What are you waiting for?!" shouts Ette from ahead.

I've been paralyzed since Sera started her ritual, when she locked eyes with me. Something, she said it's her Imprison, has power over me since she bit my neck. It's like I'm caught in the same suspended animation Ette was in when I found her.

"Why aren't you moving?!" Ette exclaims in a terrified voice from the thicket.

I can't. Not a single limb muscle will so much as budge. I'm helpless. That doesn't sound the least bit heroic. I put all my energy into rasping stubbornly, "Just go!"

"You… stupid patient!" Ette wheels around and heads back toward me.

Dumbass. Didn't you see what she did to Minior? She eats monsters while they're still alive for fuck's sake!

Sera approaches, with an innocuous mien. On the edges of her smile, what I assume are the remnants of the Minior color her otherwise pale face. As she floats along the moonlit path toward me, vegetation grows rapidly in her wake. Flowers and vines spring to life in the blink of an eye, tracing her flowing movements. Those giant plants seem to all have one thing in common, they give way to huge flowers. All of them, orange, white, blue, pink, and everything in between eagerly open wide to absorb moonlight.

"That's the bitch's power!" I curse my ignorance, realizing it was right in front of us this whole damn time. She's a fairy, they've got curses that activate under certain conditions. "Stay out of the moonlight!" I warn Ette.

Ette makes it right up to the forest's clearing. She halts at the edge of the canopy, before being in the moonlight. From under the shade of the trees, her golden eyes glow as she hurls rocks, wood, debris at Sera's direction chaotically with her telekinesis. Morse joins in as well with his ghostly volleys.

The barrage does something to break me free from the spell. Though my vision is still messed up, Nanu is out of sight, she might be lost in the dense forest of moon-suckling plants growing behind Sera. I stampede toward Ette and Morse, fearful Sera will try to freeze me again with her wretched power over me.

They shouldn't've stayed, but deep down I'm glad they didn't leave me to die. My heart is pounding, my breathing labored. I'm so dizzy and spent. When I'm within jumping distance of Ette on the perimeter, I make one final push off the ground, and extend my arm out to her.

In those tense seconds, Ette does the same. Her hands reach out to grab me free from Sera's moonlit domain. On her edge of her outstretched fingers however, the silver light glistens.

My body collides with something soft. Then I fall onto the ground hard. There's that cursed black dress covered in venomous flowers. Sera did it again. Teleported. Between us this time.

"NO!" My spirit sinks in defeat. Is there any way to escape her?

Seraphinea grabs Ette from her digits. She pulls her with incredible strength into the moon-drenched clearing. A groundswell of neon Magical Leaves traces the edge of Sera's gown as she tugs, cascading into Morse with the strength of a tsunami.

"Fuck!" I claw at Sera's gown. I can't grip it, it's like slippery silk, covered in the juices of the copious flowers on her. Next, I try to trip her legs by sweeping, but she prances over me and takes Ette along in her arms. "You rotten bitch!"

Sera ignores me, her hands forcibly mince together with Ette's.

Ette exclaims in shock, "N-No! That isn't true!"

Are they talking? I can't hear Sera, only Ette uses verbal communication.

"Get away from her," I yell. "She wants nothing to do with you!"

Sera smiles audaciously. Her grip on Ette tightens, as if spurred by my protests. She pulls Ette closer still, until their hearts are close enough where Ette's plunges between Sera's twin cores.

"I don't feel like that!" insists Ette. "H-How could I?"

Sera shoots a devious stare at Ette's quivering, curled up lips. She inches her face closer yet neglects to speak a word as her lithe body trembles with anticipation.

"You're wrong!" Ette widens her eyes. "It isn't true! I don't want to be anything like you!"

Sera's grin warps into something more carnivorous than before. Her face moves closer to Ette and her lips part.

It hits me like a truck. The reason Sera's so powerful. It's not just the moon. It's also our emotions. What we say—or rather say not to do—is giving her strength!

"Ette!" I shout in vain, having realized it too late. "Don't tell her what you don't want—!"

Ette's golden eyes turn to me. They widen in revelation. She opens her mouth to say something. Before she can, Sera covers her lips with her own.

"Goddammit!"

Ette tries to tug away, but Sera holds her closely. At first, Ette's thrashing seems to break their contact, but soon it's as though Sera has fed her some sedative. Ette's struggling slows, her quivering body fails to resist. Sera closes her eyes and kisses deeper. Her lips move against Ette's with increasing earnestness. Her arm rises through Ette's thick hair, up to the back of her neck. She tugs on Ette's hair, moaning in sordid decadence all the while.

But then their kissing suddenly breaks. Something isn't right. Sera looks paler than before if that's even possible. She gasps desperately for air, her lips are glistening with a milky purple syrup resembling the Minior.

Ette's eyes snap open wide and suddenly her fears hit me hard. They become my own feelings or mix with my own fears in a way I don't understand. I don't know what's happening. But I sense I'm right there with her as I hear Sera's voice in my head, even though she's addressing Ette. _"You'll share with me the forest's gift – it won't forsake you any longer."_

Ette shoves Sera, desperately trying to twist out of her hold, but Sera is clearly the stronger of the two.

Sera sounds more than upset by Ette's continued rejection. Her telepathic voice is downright unnerved, almost desperate. She presses her lips hard against Ette's and I hear Sera's thought transference, like I'm in Ette's spot. _"You have to take it! You and I are the same!" _

I don't know what the hell Sera means, but it can't be good. I crawl toward them. Dammit, what the fuck do I do to stop her and her plant army?

Sera's once playful telepathy directed at Ette becomes increasingly agitated, something's got her freaking out. _"Take it from me! Now! Or else I'll—!"_

Suddenly, the mental connection I had to Ette vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Sera continuously caresses her, the clarity in Ette's eyes fades as Sera's web of plants holds them in an intimate embrace. Using both her tongue and mouth, Sera goes all out, kissing Ette even deeper than before.

Meanwhile, my path is nettled by Sera's floras on the ground. Their vines lash against my skin. But the barrel of the rifle slung over my shoulder deters them. They shrivel and recoil upon contact with the pipe. Realizing their aversion to metal, I prod it in front of me to carve through the undergrowth. An even denser bush of creeping vines and more budding flowers surrounds them in a floral cocoon. "Ette!" I yell, clawing my way up the living barricade.

Sera glances over at me as I scale the tall plant wall. Something looks wrong with her. She almost looks afraid, has a similar dark green aura around her like Ette did, but that can't possibly be right. Could it?

No, my eyes might be still playing tricks on me. Has to be whatever noxious woodland disease she infected me with. However, one thing is undeniable, the purple glow covering Sera's eyes is blending with her previous iris's red. Sera eating the Minior might've gotten her sick also. I think that's why she's afraid. The lilac light merges with her irises, it takes over, causing the plants to surge in a frenzied growth. Sera's losing the few immutable characteristics carried over from her original form to this new evolution!

Ette's putting up a struggle, better able to keep Sera at bay now that she's in a state of alarm at what the unorthodox method of evolution is doing to her. However, even though Sera's in fear from her transformation, her plants are doing the work for her. As the forest surrounding the two of them grow larger, their flowers and vines push the two of them together.

I'd tell Morse to napalm the whole damn thing, but I need to rescue Ette first. What do I do? Falling into their vegetation pit would be a death trap for all three of us. I'm not sure Sera can control the plants now that the evolution is becoming permanent. The wall I'm perched on is closing in fast on them both from its inner region. All I can do is reach my good arm down into the shrinking chamber and shout, "Grab on!"

Thankfully, Ette hears me. She lifts her head. Her hand reaches up and I snatch it.

I heave with all my might to lift her. "C'mon!" The two of them are right against each other so it's a difficult job since I'm fighting gravity and friction.

Sera's dress hitches up from the motion. She clutches at Ette's back in a frenzy, tugging on her clothes. Eventually she reaches the back of Ette's core possessively to stall the rescue with her own weight.

"Ette, you gotta do something—can't hold you both like this." My palm is wet. I'm either going to lose my grip on her or fall in myself. To prevent the latter, I kick my foot deep into the outer wall of vines and gain temporary stability.

Ette's crystal begins to glow brightly. The searing heat forces Sera to release the rear of her core.

Next Sera throws both her arms up, behind Ette's neck.

I sink toward them. The vegetation I'm leaning on with my stomach closes the already small hole I'm reaching into. Primal panic starts to overtake me. I don't want to be trapped.

In a last-ditch effort, Seraphinea engages Ette in desperation, tugging up on her ears while using her own mouth to pry Ette's jaw down at the same time.

Not this shit again! I yank harder in my own last-ditch effort. Fears of getting trapped by murderous plants be damned, I gotta save Ette from this!

As I start to get Ette out, Sera twists her head to the side and presses in her entire mouth like she's trying to force something in and down her throat.

To my alarm, Ette's eyes roll back. Her body convulses in a spasm, then goes limp. She lets go of my hand, but I don't let her fall.

Breathing heavily, her eyes half lidded, Sera pulls away. Her languid tongue leaves a trail of the violet plasma connected to Ette's mouth. Sera's eyes, of similar lilac color, have completely lost any familiarity. I can't tell if she's still even there as the pulsating vines, profuse with blossoming enchanted flowers, wrap around her forked heart and enter her chest through the center of her crystal heart's divide.

"You motherfucking bitch!" I yell at Sera. It's just the rage I need. With strength I didn't realize I had, I hoist Ette out of the death trap. We both fall. I land hard on my back, catching Ette on top of me.

Ette coughs uncontrollably, spitting up bits of the purple ooze. Her legs tremble violently, and she coils herself, wrapping her arms tight around her shivering torso. As her heart loses its once bright luster, she hangs her head to better hide her face. What looks like tears are spilling out from the corners of her eyes beneath her bangs. Her lips are coated with the glowing plasma.

I hastily wipe the vile goo from the corners of her quivering mouth, cursing that Sera had the nerve to force-feed Ette the liquefied Minior through their kiss. "Dammit! Let's go!" I urge her to move and support her as we flee.

The cage of plant life continues to pulsate in front of us. Doesn't look like Sera will make it out if those things have the same eat-monsters-while-they're-still-alive proclivities as her. I count my blessings we escaped.

However, just when we leave the moon-drenched clearing of animated plant life there's a shrill, howling noise from behind us. Could be Nanu or maybe even the death throes of Sera.

I don't dare look back. I can't stop running. My vision is still hazy, but Morse's light guides us back to the truck.

We get there, pursued by the out-of-control vines. I pile into the driver's seat with Ette still in my arm. Her body's getting colder by the second.

Just as I slam the door closed behind us, a thick tendril of overgrown roots shakes the whole cabin, almost knocking the truck over.

"Holy fucking shit!" I can't get a hold of anything as the walloping plant growths continue to wildly attack.

Morse locates the ignition key amid the chaos. There's another ghastly wail from the deep thicket, and the chill of primal fear it sends up my spine makes me almost drop the key as he hands it off.

Even though Ette's fading fast, she holds the key in my hand with hers. What little light left starts to fade away into a sea of darkness below the forest canopy. All manner of frightening thuds from the rampant plants lashing against the truck send my heart into a panicked frenzy.

With Ette's help, I slam the key into the ignition and crank that sucker hard. A tremendous start up sound arises as the engine spurs to life. The brilliant headlights illuminate a terrifying scene of snaky vines and thorny creepers coiling all around us, their twisting shadows whipping ferociously against the backdrop of the blackened woods as the sinister forest tries to swallow us up.

Hastily shifting gears, I stomp my boot all the way down on the accelerator. We smash straight through the enchanted plants while the wheels kick up dirt and dust in our wake. The thundering roar of the iron horse delivers us from the fairy in the woods.


	7. Chapter 7: Land of Arid Sands

Chapter 7: Land of Arid Sands

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The chirping songs of birds fill my ears. Feels like I slept with the window open and their morning refrains are calling out to me.

Must've passed out. Through groggy vision I witness the sun rising, forming a golden trail of light on the dashboard.

Wait. Dashboard? That means I'm still behind the wheel! My eyes widen.

A substantial green mess of hair covers half my field of vision. It's Ette. She's got the back of her head on the side of the driver's headrest—her body's spread out, hogging most of the cabin like usual. Her chest is moving from deep breaths, so I know she's alive.

What a relief.

Morse leans against the truck's hefty climate vents, a grumpy look on his face. He jumps onto the sun-kissed dashboard and points at the dirt hill the truck climbed on an angle. Looks like I managed to do a lousy job veering off the road to 'park' last night.

After what happened, it's good to still be in one piece.

I shift my attention back to Ette. "Ette. Hey, Ette, wake up."

Not good, she's out like a light. Oh, no. I remember what Sera did to her. I need to make sure she's okay. I nudge her on the shoulder.

To my surprise, she garbles a few sounds, then shifts her body deep into the passenger seat.

"Ugh. What a headache—damn that Sera—" My hand goes to rub my neck. Instead of wounds, I feel cloth bandages on my fingertips. "Oh, you fixed me up?"

Again, incoherent murmuring. She's totally out of it.

"This is just peachy then." I look to Morse for help. "What'd ya reckon we do?"

He shuffles along the dashboard, leaps onto Ette's stockings covering her knees, and snaps open the compartment. A map, yellow with age, is resting inside. I don't know what I'm more impressed by: Morse locating the regional map or him diving onto Ette's legs with a smack and not waking her up.

"You did good, pal."

Swiftly, I snatch the map next to his grinning mien. The map's so old, it feels like pages of a worn book. Yet it gives me this warm comfort as I hold it. Sort of the way you feel when you see an old friend or familiar face.

Rocaire. It's a massive region, with low population density, and a lot of variety in relatively short distances. Right now, we're in the southwestern part of the region. Further in that direction is Orre. Outside the forests that line the hills, it's one of the driest parts of the region, the Savage Lands lorded over by the closest Regional Vortex known as the Sun Summit. To the far east are the Great Plains, the capital Dezear, seat of the Sky Summit Vortex and the New League. However, it's out of the way of our target, which is the distant north, a barren land of imposing, ice-covered mountains in the Frost Lands. The final Vortex, the Moon Summit is nestled in the wilderness there.

"Got our lay of the land, now how to get there…" I mumble.

Morse beckons my attention, pointing to the compass pendant Cortex gave me as proof of overcoming the Trial.

"Of course! Now I feel like a real adventurer," I laugh halfheartedly, picking it up. "All I need is a pith helmet."

By studying the road, the sun, our direction, and the surrounding landscape, I orient where we are based on our last known position. Scrutinizing the map, it seems we made it to the edge of the woods right before the foreboding Savage Lands.

Towns are usually in the fertile, wooded areas of Rocaire. There's a temperate climate that runs along the ridges of the mountains in the region. Naturally, snow precipitation makes latitude and altitude important. To get to the cold mountains, perpetually locked in snow, we'll have to travel north and pass through part of an expansive desert located on the plateau. It's a similar climate to Orre, unsurprising considering our geographic proximity. The nearest town on this north-bound road is right before the desert basin on our journey to upper Rocaire. By following this desolate road, we should arrive at the next town, Ganer.

Ette might as well be in another world. She's not even responding to Morse poking her curiously.

"We better get her to someone who can look at her in town," I say to him. "I'll think of another alias so we can get needed help if she doesn't come to."

He nods and springs back onto the dashboard.

My body's anxious so I jerk the truck as I get us back onto the road. "Damn, and she was supposed to look after me—not the other way around. I'm no doctor. Don't know what the hell Sera did. But one thing's for sure, she's not looking good."

Morse frowns at me, it feels like he can sense the abundant negative sentiments coursing through my spirit.

"Almost died—we could've all died—all 'cos I wanted to make a damn easy buck." I shake my head, beyond frustrated at my choices. "God-fucking dammit! Should have never chased down that damn meteorite! It's all my fault. Another get-rich-quick scheme backfired. Fuck me. Fuck this. Fuck it all!"

The blazing daylight is intense in the big, clear blue sky. My eyes burn from it. It hurts like hell. Those weird kaleidoscopic lights in my field of vision are gone. Even though they're a memory, the stinging pain in my eyes from the brightness, coupled with a birefringence of light pouring through the widows splitting into every color, vividly reminds me of how unnatural it felt.

"…Shit." Even my voice hurts. "I've read stories about feral monsters infecting people and even other monsters. Sera's teeth broke flesh. Thought my throat was on fire. Got dizzy, weak, couldn't find my center. She knew what she was doing. Worked her fingers into my skin while I was debilitated by it and made it worse. I saw these bright-ass prism colors like I was hallucinating. Awful fever right until I passed out."

Morse springs to the side and utters a troubled groan. It dawns on me, for a ghost candle, he really understands me. I'm glad he's around to lend an ear.

"Don't worry, all that's gone now," I clarify. "Thanks to Ette cleaning the wound, I'm feeling okay. But she's passed out, overexerted herself. Dammit! Sera tried to mess her up too. Dunno how, but I heard them talking inside my head. Sera was trying to do something to her as well. Ette managed to help me, even after fighting her off. Just how'd she find the strength?"

Judging by his perplexed expression he doesn't have the answer either.

As I drive the flashbacks haunt my memory. Sera ate Minior. Turned it into goop then evolved by consuming it. And then she tried to share that with Ette against her wishes. The whole thing freaked me out.

I shudder. "If one of us is in danger, it's Ette. Need to get to a facility, pharmacy, anything really."

I press the pedal down to make time. The landscape begins to sprawl as we leave behind the Meteor Forest. That's when sheer desolation sinks in.

The dusty expanse is endless. Not a sign of habitation graces the barren terrain. These are the Savage Lands. Desert, dunes, more desert, as far as the eye can see in every direction.

Morse is my only encouragement in this sea of infinite sand. Somehow, his innocuous expression, a glimmer of hope under his glowing flame, is the only thing keeping me from breaking down, falling into despair. He's reminding me again and again, that Ette's still okay, she's still breathing, I can see that, there's still time to get her the help that she needs.

That town, Ganer, should be straight ahead on this road, but I'm starting to think our fuel will run out before we get there. Gauge has been dangerously close to empty, would be catastrophic in a pinch. I decide to fill it up.

Before I leave the air-conditioned cabin, I try to shake Ette awake again. Her body is cold. No coherent response, just more of her labored breathing and a worryingly quickening heart rate. Her mouth is chapped and parched, her once springy ears look like wilted leaves.

Morse makes a drinking gesture, sipping on his candle wax as it runs down his face.

"You're right man, better get her something to drink."

I rummage behind the passenger seat and locate a canteen. Popping the cap, I try to figure out how to best administer the fresh water. Ette's sitting upright, but she's still fainted. I don't want her to choke. I don't know much but giving someone who's passed out a drink could make them aspirate. However, Ette's rapidly succumbing to dehydration. She's a nurse, she'd probably know the best way to do this. With her being unconscious, I'm stuck caring for her. Her life's in my hands. The gravity of my responsibility sinks in.

Setting the canteen down next to Morse, I place my head on Ette's forehead, which is very warm to the touch under her droopy bangs. "Damn, she's burning up."

Morse points to the canteen, then signals by tilting his head to a suitable degree to hold water in the mouth.

I'm stunned. The little guy would be great in the army, he's got a knack for first aid as well as Morse Code.

Adjusting her head back to the proper degree, I guide the canteen to her mouth. Gradually, I tilt the bottle.

Morse warns me "Slow!" with a resolute look.

I'm careful not to pour too much at once. Trying my best, I make it so only a very small amount makes it to her mouth at a time. Despite her appearance of being asleep, her body's receptive to the little water on her tongue and she eagerly swallows.

Even though she's dehydrated and thirsty, I remember to go slow like Morse said, I don't want to obstruct her airway. A little at a time. "This is your patient being patient," I grumble.

After she's finished half the container I pull it away. Her ears seem less wilted, but her eyes are still closed shut. I wonder what's going on behind those lowered lids. Placing my hand above her eyes, I discover her fever's gone down too.

"Phew. Thanks, Morse." I feel relieved she took it okay. Seeing her drink made me thirsty as well, so I take a swig of the refreshing spring water as a reward before capping the canister.

Morse grumbles, something's got him on edge.

"What's up?" I ask.

He points straight up through the windshield from his post on the dash.

"Kinda hard for me to see, bud," I mutter from deep in the driver's seat.

Morse flaps his arms.

"Birds…no, they wouldn't leave the woods. Buzzards, huh?"

He nods, his flame dimming. Looks like the sun's heat is making his body melt faster too.

"Don't worry, read somewhere vultures only go after things that're already dead—" I pause for a moment, grasping the fact I'm speaking to a ghost. "You should stay inside. Keep an eye on her for me."

He pokes Ette. She's still out of it.

Killing the engine, I venture out to refuel.

It's oppressively hot and bright. Can't help but feel like the Savage Lands are part of another world. Not even the wind is blowing. It's just still, dry air. Rocky crags and cacti dot the otherwise vacant landscape. Squinting from the sunlight, my eyes start to tear. Sure enough, there are those black wings high in the sky. Circling. Waiting for us to drop dead. I hurry to the bed and snatch the gas canister from under the cover.

There's a strong floral aroma hanging in the dry air. At first it reminds me of Sera, but there's no way she could have followed us all this way to the desert. Did she even survive last night?

As I'm thinking, the pungent smell of fuel fills my nostrils. While I'm filling the tank up, a skittering noise causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise. It's clicking, and very low to the ground. Checking my six, there's nothing around. The noise unnerves me yet again, this time it's from under the truck. I step back and peer beneath it.

There's a suspicious mound of sand, almost like a hill, underneath the truck. "Got a bad feeling about this…" I put the fuel canister back in the bed and step away, reaching for my holster.

Suddenly, it shudders. "Crap! It's moving!" Can't even see it under all that sand, let alone shoot at whatever it is.

Deciding to flee, I scramble toward the open door. Something rigid catches my leg mid-stride, causing me to trip, getting a face full of hot sand. Spitting, I look at what snagged me.

A damn Skorupi. A big one, almost half the truck bed. It hoists its deadly tail far back to stab again. Rolling to the side, I narrowly avoid the poisonous tail. Can't tell left from right as it marches out of the shadows on its spindly legs.

Morse must've sensed trouble; a fat ember flies overhead. It comes dangerously close to hitting the gas intake before pelting Skorupi's glossy plate of chitin. The attack singes its back with a burn. Nevertheless, it does not let up, relentlessly jabbing its tail.

Getting to my feet, I go to lure the scorpion further from the truck. It seems to be working, until I hear a slithering noise from behind me. Just as I turn, a Seviper, with purple poison dripping from its dagger fangs, slithers over a dune of sand.

"Great, a frickin' ambush."

A second volley of flames deters the hissing viper from striking. It is all too eager to, and its rattling strikes primal fear into my brain.

My best bet is to sprint back to the truck, bunch the two monsters together so Morse can hit them both with Flame Burst. However, right as I make my move a third beast fires a green barrage of missiles at my feet halting my progress.

"You gotta be kiddin'!" Another monster decides to join in, a stout Cacnea with a few talon scars running on either side of its flower bulb crown. It spits out a toxic bile in my direction.

I call out to my buddy, but he's getting crammed into a corner by the front wheel thanks to the scorpion. The vile goop forms a circle around me, which Seviper proceeds to slither into. "They're working together." It's a realization that comes too late. Seeing I've nowhere to run, the snake opens its mouth wide and lunges at my head.

My dodge is clumsy, the snake manages to snap part of my cast's sling with one of its fangs. A jolt of pain runs up my arm as I fall against the rough scales of the coiled beast. Again, it goes for a bite, and this time I'm quick enough to roll along its serpentine form. Wrap has got me cornered, and it tries again.

I'm losing steam, and Morse is desperately trying to ward off both the scorpion and the cactus by launching a salvo of fireballs. Embers thrown in quick succession aren't powerful enough to break their guards, they're accustomed to the desert heat and shrug off the burst of attacks.

Despite Seviper biting itself when I dodge, the fangs aren't piercing its scales. That revolting coating from Cacnea must be strengthening the snake's hide. The viper goes for another chomp, but I snatch a stone off the sand with my good arm. After it clamps down, barely missing, I proceed to bludgeon the side of its head. The smack manages to knock its lower jaw completely loose. It hisses and thrashes, riling in pain. I make sure to give it one more whack for good measure and see my opportunity to escape. Tumbling over the stunned fiend's scales, I run toward the truck and Morse.

It's a grisly fight, Morse is caught in-between the charred scorpion and the cunning cactus. Cacnea throws more and more of its toxic vomit all around the place. Skorupi, meanwhile, attacks from behind with a slew of poison jabs and slashes. Morse is forced to dodge, putting him on a losing defensive. His advantage is lost when not striking the monster's weakness.

"Raze the flower with two shots of Ember!" I yell.

He tosses the two motes of combustion right at the bulb sitting atop the beast's head. Cacnea uses his stubby legs to swing around in an escape, however the added range of the twin strike hits. Fire erupts from the critter's head, and it swats itself with both arms trying to extinguish the burn.

The burst of hot, sustained crackling coming from the cactus startles the rest of the ambushers, and they recoil as the fire rises.

I see an opening with the Skorupi – a gap between its claws. "Now's your chance—counter strike! Flame Burst!"

A searing blast from Morse's flame pierces through the claws and coats the already singed critter with an inferno. The strike scatters fire in both directions, spreading onto Cacnea too. It wails and uses both arms to try and snuff out the flames on its plant.

Their formation is broken, it's time for the coup de grâce. I raise my arm to give the instruction.

Suddenly, a dark shadow blots out the sun. The way it coincides with my stance makes me question what's occurring.

I look up just in time to see black wings swooping down. I avoid the talons by rolling onto the ground. Then realize they weren't aiming for me.

The vulture, a mighty Mandibuzz, snatches Morse right before my eyes. Her plumy wings smack the roof of the truck on her ascent into the sky.

"MOOOOORSE!" I roar.

He's caught in her clutches, and despite his repeated attacks, her giant wings are pushing the flames down as she flies higher into the air.

Cursing, I scramble into the driver's seat. My attention is so focused on saving him, checking on Ette doesn't even occur to me. She's still there, though the whack Mandibuzz gave the truck might have woken her up. I start the engine and slam the pedal to the metal to follow the black bird through the desert.

Not sure how much time passes; my eyes are locked like lasers on the monster that scooped up my friend. She must be taking him to her nest. Our ride becomes significantly bumpier off-road.

After trailing the beast, a large, red mesa comes into sight directly ahead. The rock formation has what looks like square black dots winding around it, coiling from the bottom to the top. Only when we get close do I realize how tall the formation is.

That's where she's taking him. To the top of that mountain. Her dark form glides to its precipice.

I take us as close as I can, before the many jagged rocks surrounding the mesa makes traversing on wheels impossible.

After stopping, I turn around to grab the scout rifle from behind the seat.

She's looking at me. I freeze mid-motion. "Ette…?"

Ette blinks, a sleepy look on her face. She opens her mouth to speak. "Mugh…" she groggily groans.

"Y'alright?"

She shakes her head hesitantly.

I'm at a loss for words, she's not looking too well, and there's a lot I want to tell her, but I need to prioritize. "Sorry, Ette—I gotta hurry 'n save Morse."

"Morse…" Her heavy eyelids lower with serious concern. "What happened?"

"I messed up." My anger is taking a toll on my psyches, I'm not sure if it's the redness of the mesa or the desert we're in, but it feels like everything around me is hot and inflamed. "Dropped my guard, goddamn, a buzzard went 'n scooped him up!"

"That bird we were following?" Her chin tilts upward as she glances to the aerie. "I saw its wings. Thought we were both in a dream, together, chasing it."

"No, it's real." My thoughts briefly ponder how bad it must be for her if she thought it was all a dream, not to mention one which we were sharing, but being upset at the situation causes me to lose focus. "I should've been more careful in the fight. We were out-numbered, chips were down…during the turnabout I got complacent. She took him all the way to her nest atop this mesa. I gotta save the lil'spark. Fuck! Or I'll never forgive myself."

"—Alv?" she asks.

She's called me by that twice. A nickname, I guess. Alvin always sounded too official anyway. Come to think of it, I've been calling her by a shortened version of Colette this whole time. "What is it?"

"I need to go with you," Ette replies.

"Not-uh, no way. You need to rest. Been out cold all morning, can't risk you collapsing."

Defiantly, she shakes her head back and forth, her long hair bouncing on her shoulders. "I-I'm fine."

"The hell you are! Didja forget what Sera did?"

"Sera…!" Her hands race to cover her mouth and a muddled expression appears on her face. "What she said to me…about what I am…what I'm becoming…"

I scratch my neck, anxiously rubbing the bandages Ette applied last night on the spot where Sera bit me. "We should talk about it, but not right now. Morse is in trouble. You oughta rest til I get back."

"Wait." Ette grabs my arm as I go to pick up the rifle. Her fingers feel warm. She holds me there on the wrist and tries to gather her thoughts. "I'm not going to drag you down," she says adamantly.

"Your condition might," I reply. "Felt your head, you've got yourself a genuine fever. Should know better than to overexert yourself since you're a nurse."

"But—!" she protests.

"No buts," I tell her. "It'll give me peace of mind if you stay here, out of trouble."

"This isn't about you!" she exclaims. "Quit being such a self-centered, lousy patient!"

For a moment, her bluntness leaves me lost for words. That is what got us into this mess to begin with. "Guess I've been a little selfish."

She hisses, "I want to rescue Morse too. So don't get in my way."

I never considered Ette's feelings on the matter. She's not going to change her mind, I can see it in her sharp eyes. If I left her here, I bet she'd follow me. That's just the type of personality she has. No-nonsense and persistent to a fault. Reminds me a bit of myself honestly. "On one condition."

Her ears, though still wilted, perk up slightly.

"You promise to tell me if you feel sick and listen to what I say." Even though I had the intention of not coming across as demanding, I still manage to. "I dunno what Sera tried to do to you, but it couldn't've been good if you're that overheated after twelve hours of being passed out."

"Fine," she huffs, then hastily follows up with, "but you are NOT my trainer, so don't get any weird ideas that you're my boss or anything."

"I'm no trainer," I say gruffly, exiting the truck with the long gun in tow. "Just a man on a mission."

We get out of the truck and spot a bird in the distance circling the side of the stark cliffside of the mesa.

"Hey." Ette points. "That's the same vulture you were following before. It has those red spots under its wings."

"Really?" I guess I missed the little detail, but she must've seen it during our pursuit. "Then where's Morse?"

"Doesn't look like he's in her talons." She shakes her head. "Seems the vulture is looking for something."

As soon as Ette finishes her thought, a plume of flame jets out from a crevice near the top of the mesa followed by a billowing cloud of easily visible smoke.

We both exclaim, "Morse!"

Mandibuzz can't get to him in his little shelter, every time she swoops in close, she realizes the gap is too small and coasts away.

"He's alive!" Ette says happily.

My heart feels lighter. "Yeah, for a ghost, that's pretty damn good I'd say."

"We have to let him know we're coming to save him!"

"Already on it." I tug the cord of Cortex's compass worn around my neck under my shirt. The back is a polished mirror, meant to be used as a signal mirror. On a bright day like this it's just a matter of reflecting the light directly at where his distress signal is coming from. With some careful light manipulation, I send him the signal that we see him. He responds in turn with his fire bursts. "Says he's ok where he's at, gonna hold tight while we figure out a way to rescue him."

"Amazing!" For once, she seems impressed by something I did. "You talked over all that distance with only light!"

"Aw, c'mon, it ain't nothing like telepathy, but it works."


	8. Chapter 8: Swirling Intentions

Chapter 8: Swirling Intentions

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In the shade of the mesa, we deliberate our plan of action to save Morse. It feels a lot less hot being out of the sun, but our mission to rescue our friend from the vulture at the top is no less daunting. Morse is safe for now, but we can't leave him there.

My gaze travels high up the steep side of the red mesa. I get a sense of vertigo from the elevation. It's dizzying and makes me feel small. The brutal badlands surrounding us on all sides means we're very much on our own. If anything were to happen, no help would find us. Not for days anyway.

The sheer walls rise out of the desert in stalwart defiance of the rest of the sandy environment. Initially, I don't see how we can climb them to the buzzard's roost at the top and save Morse. However, an idea comes to mind. "Hey, Ette, can you use your powers to float?"

"Up there?" She shakes her head dismissively. "Not a chance."

"How helpful." I groan. "Well, how 'bout a Teleport?"

Her eyes go wide. "With you? To a place I've never been? Real smart idea, on the condition you've got a death wish!"

"Hmm." I don't understand how her powers work. "Sera teleported. You can't?"

"No," Ette replies bitingly. "And don't compare me to her—she's insane."

"Sheesh." She has a point. "So, some of you like to wear cute little dresses while others prefer to devour monsters to evolve. I don't understand your species at all, Ette."

"Humans have a similar choice of behavior, and some choose to be inhumane." The way she glares at me in frustration, Ette's making it clear she's in the exact same situation as me, despite our physical differences. Psychotic members of her species, the kind who eat their food alive and have a garden of carnivorous plants, are beyond her purview.

"Hey, uh, Ette…you've always cooked your food before eating it, right?"

To my hesitant question, she nods her head exuberantly. "Oh, yes, Doctor Reeves is a great chef!" Her fingers tie together over her heart. "Ooh, the wonderful meals he makes when he has time…mmm, the smell of roasted culinary delights! And the pastries, oooh, the pastries! Those strawberry tarts are so delectable, the crust is crumbly, soft and cookie-like. The berries are so smooth and flavorful, at their freshest in the spring. Just imagining it makes me salivate!" Her eyes shimmer in a desire for sweets belying her usual coldness.

"Um, sure, that's…nice?" She really had to bring up the Doc making her these extravagant, delicious sounding meals and tartlets? Now I'm hungry. Why'd I have to get a desert and not a dessert?

"Do you cook as well?" she asks me eagerly. "Based on my experience, humans have a predisposition to the culture of culinary arts."

Culture of _what_?! "Yeah-huh, sure, instant noodles are my specialty."

"Instant…noodles?" Her head tilts to the side in curiosity. "Huh? You actually _eat_ that stuff?"

"C'mon, it's really that surprising to you? Not everyone's got a personal chef to make them meals." My stomach growls. "We can cook some grub later, right now gotta save Morse before he becomes some Vullaby's chow."

Ette brushes past me. "Oh! What's that over there?"

Well, now she's running off. "Wait, Ette, don't just go off like that!"

Following her investigation, we wind up approaching a twisting path of orange sand up into the mountain. The rocks along the way remind me of prehistoric eggs with their incredible smoothness. Near the end of the trail, the stone of the mountain divides into a sinister entryway. It's pitch-black inside.

"Whoaaa!" Ette exclaims. "Is this a cave entrance? I've never been in a cave before!"

It blends in so well with the rest of the red stone and surrounding area, I'm surprised Ette could spot it. Then again, in her profession she must need an eye for detail for incisions like this one. "Looks like an entranceway," I reply. "Fancy a bit of exploring?"

"Maybe," Ette rocks her body back and forth, "but it's really dark and we don't have Morse."

"Hah. If you're reeeally scared you can hold my hand," I taunt.

"Wh-What?!" She recoils, clutching her hands tightly together close to her chest.

Funny how bothered she becomes when flustered. Considering her generally serious mien, and recalcitrant demeanor, I'd say that's a viable strategy to disarm her.

She must have caught me smirking, since she immediately rushes headlong up the path. "I'm not scared! Let's go already."

"Right, Morse is in trouble. He's a tough 'mon, even for Mandibuzz. I reckon he'll be alright if this cave takes us up to the summit." Still, I can't help but feel there's something ominous about this place.

Ette continues ahead of me, by her light and flowing motions, she could be starting to feel better.

After following her inside, I turn my pocket flashlight – well, it's really just the light of my phone – on. "Wow," I say as we witness a wondrous sight. There are small crystals on the walls, almost like windows of glass. They sparkle and glisten as I trace my light in a wide arc.

Ette growls angrily. "You had a light all this time!"

Interesting reaction. Ette doesn't recognize the flip phone? Then how did it get in my pocket before? Maybe she wasn't the one who planted it there. The thoughts of her being a cunning psychic evaporate as I ponder the potential culprit. To break the silence, I say with a shrug, "Honestly, I got used to relying on Morse."

"Why'd you go and let me think we'd be wandering around in the dark?! Holding your ha—!" Ette cuts her train of thought off by growling.

"You came to that conclusion all on your own," I stress.

She sullenly grouses once again.

"Here." I extend my hand holding the flip to her.

She looks at me questioningly.

"Take it. Use it as a lantern since I'm carrying the gun."

Her eyes lock on the phone in my outstretched hand. "You're giving this to me?"

"Yep, but don't go fiddling around with it, just use it for light," I insist.

She awkwardly takes it, trying not to touch my hand too much in the process, but failing at that when her fingers linger in my palm. I'm not convinced she's never seen it before, but she's making a darn good case for herself by handling it so clumsily.

"Not familiar to you?" I ask, cocking my head.

"No, is this some sort of new model? It doesn't feel like the other ones I've seen."

"Huh?" Harrison called me a dinosaur for using a flip in the age of smartphones.

"I guess it feels like it has a different kind of…personality to it?" Ette caresses the phone. "I always wanted my own, like all the other clinic staff. But getting too attached to a phone is very easy—" she conflictingly shakes her head "—still, it must be so nice to talk to your friends from far away."

"Sure. It'd be redundant for someone with telepathy though," I add.

"Oh, um, yes. Yes, of course." She grips the phone tightly between her palms, shining the light just above her heart. I think I can hear her…laughing? It's a joyful sort of chuckle she's trying hard to suppress as she walks with the device. I feel like trusting her with it made her happy.

It's rather spacious in here, almost hollow, save for the enormous column of sandstone in the center. The floor seems to circle up the edge of the mesa's interior, and there are several large islands of stone jutting inward from the sides of the walls and meeting the central pillar. At the very top, between the isles of rock, faint daylight pours through a small gap.

"Ah-ha! Looks like there's a way up there!" I smile confidently.

"Let's go!" cheers Ette with a grin. Even if I didn't have the visual clue, her inflection demonstrates giving her the phone really boosted her mood.

Along the spiraling path leading up, we start to notice makeshift 'structures' which appear to be rooms burrowed into the side of the mountain. Most of these dark chambers leading further into the mountain have collapsed pieces of stone or debris obstructing their entryways.

"No signs of recent human activity, but people must've been here." Walking along the spiraling path around the perimeter, I muse, "Maybe decades ago. You woulda thought they'd leave more of a trace."

Ette whispers, "Should we call out to see if anyone's home?"

"No way, this is a stealth mission, we gotta get the drop on the buzzard up top," I caution.

"Stealth mission?" she repeats, wiggling her ears. "Why do you call it that?"

"Ah, ha, just an old habit from when I was a lil' tike playing make-pretend," I quietly chuckle. "Besides, if it's home to Mandibuzz, there might be other critters around too. Be on your guard."

All around the cave, smaller pillars have formed. Some hang from the path's ceiling above, others protrude out to the central column. The result is a spider's web of shadows forming when light from the phone shines anywhere.

As we pass more of the ruined lairs, we come across these reflective, yet opaque 'windows' on the exterior of the rooms. When the light hits them, they shine brightly like a cut crystal, scattering rays of light everywhere but inside. Intrigue eats at my nerves. If we could explore would we find treasure inside? Or the remains of skeletons from who knows how many years ago preserved inside like mausoleums?

Ette stares at their glossy beauty, the crystals glittering brightly as they reflect in her eyes, contrasting a deep mystery held within. "Is this… ice?" she asks.

"Ice? Don't think so. It's cooler in the cave for certain, but not cold enough for water to freeze." Curiously, my hand touches one. It's hard and smooth. There's a dense presence and substance to it as well. "Huh, feels like glass. Really, really thick glass. Doubt even a sledgehammer could easily break through this."

Ette touches one as well. "Ohh! Wooow…!"

"Wow?" I repeat, watching her lean all the way forward, almost hugging it.

"It's so pretty, Alv!" She quickly reels in her excitement, as well as her body. Straightening up, she says in a restrained and serious manner, "I mean, what an interesting phenomenon."

No way she's going to fool me with that act. "Lemme guess, your crystal heart is why you like it?"

"N-No!" she denies unconvincingly. Gee, I really wonder if she thinks I'll buy that.

"Ette," I sigh, "I'm only gonna say this once. Don't be afraid to be yourself. Whatever you like, as long as it's not hurting anyone, is fine. Everyone has their passions, there's a ton of stuff to like in the big old world. When you pretend like you don't enjoy stuff you clearly do, it's… a little sad, y'know?"

"Wha—?" Her body tenses up like she's shocked by what I said. "I didn't mean to…I wasn't…It's not…" Ette's wayward stammering eventually evolves into, "I'm not sad!"

"That's the thing: You don't have to be." Suddenly, I become very aware that it's just the two of us alone here, I can say whatever's on my mind. "Though, it's a bit charming when you try to deny things."

"Charming!?" If I didn't know better, she might be experiencing another fever judging by the flushing under her wide eyes. "Don't call me that!"

"See, that's just charming." I give an encouraging smile. "Try 'n be honest instead of mendacious."

"Me?" She smiles unconvincingly, her lips are quivering. "M-Mendacious?"

"Ah, whatever." I wave my arm. "If you like acting, that's your prerogative, I'm not gonna judge you."

"I'm judging you right now," she retorts in a snappy voice. Since we can't be loud, she saunters right up into my personal space in order to let me know, "Your comments are annoying. VERY annoying!"

Not going to fight with her. She's gone through a lot recently after all. "Y'know, I bet a smart nurse like you knew you'd help by coming along."

"Because I'm a psychic," she says, arrogantly puffing out her chest, "AND an empath!"

"Totally, you had it figured out already when you insisted on coming. With you here, I don't have to worry about being alone. Makes me feel…calm, y'know?"

"Calm?" she repeats, tilting her head, deep in thought.

"Mhm, don't get it twisted, I'm still worried about Morse." I try to gather my thoughts as my heart beats faster than usual. "But I don't feel frantic or like doing stupid stuff. When you got nothing to lose, well, it's why I made a scene when I ran away from the clinic. Makes a difference to have company. So, thanks…for keeping me calm while we rescue Morse."

Ette shrinks back, perhaps bewildered by my confession that her antics help me from being too reckless. "It's nothing. I have to look after my patient."

My eyes roll. "Ugh, you gonna keep callin' me that?"

She winks. "Until you pay off your debt."

"Right…right."

We continue along, me taking point. After climbing half of the way, we reach the first rocky island on the side of the wall snaking along the path. A strange sight greets us. It appears to be some sort of ancient ruin. I have no clue what architecture it's meant to be, only that the structures are hewn into the side of the mesa. The atmosphere is unnerving, heavy too. The backdrop of these strange structures makes me want to explore them on the way back. Did people once live here? What happened to them?

Suddenly, there's the unsettling sound of pebbles breaking free. "We're not alone."

Ette stops at my side. She's so quiet, whatever's making the noise probably only heard me.

Carefully, my eyes scan the area. Nothing's out of the ordinary. I see a dilapidated stone structure that could very easily be used as home. It's even got a door and a window, though both are broken and lead to a pitch-black interior. "No way I'm going in there, c'mon, let's keep moving."

Ette squeezes my shoulder above my cast. "I don't sense anything," she whispers.

"Yeah, remember you said that last night too," I tell her.

"Don't—" Ette leans close "—remind me."

We hurry along, she's walking closer to me and in line with my steps. A sense of dread keeps following us as we ascend. I start to notice something strange, what little color the light is illuminating is being washed out. The vivid red sand and rock of the mesa's interior is turning into this ugly, faded gray.

"Something's wrong," I tell her as my breaths quicken.

She can feel it too, I'm sure of it. I don't know how but being near her makes that discernible. Is this what Sera meant about us sharing emotions?

Another clattering noise fills the air, this time originating from within the ruins, beneath a steep cliffside. I point the barrel in the direction of the commotion, my palm is clammy and wet on the receiver.

"A-ah-Alv! Your phone is…buzzing!"

"Shit!"

"What? Why's it—?" The light shakes from her surprise and the phone's vibration.

That's when it appears. A thin stone breaks free from the structure, rolling along the side of the structure's wall. Though it's thin, it's not exactly flat or round. Almost looks like an elliptical dinner plate. Judging by its dustiness must be old.

My fingers reach for the trigger – pausing for a moment. Whatever knocked the plate loose from the dwelling must be lurking inside. I crane my neck to the side but can't see what's inside.

"What the—?" Ette gasps. "It's…moving!"

Sure enough, the plate is wobbling all on its own. It rattles and spins flat on the ground outside the dim chamber. It almost looks like a possessed banquet prop for a cheesy horror movie. Except we're about a thousand feet in the air, inside a hollow mountain, that's pitch-black inside, and home to who-knows-what. Guess that makes it a bit scarier.

But then, all expectations are shattered as the plate stands up vertically on its edge. There, on its worn, oblong façade, I see a screaming, contorted face.

Hair on the back of my neck rises in panic.

It's looking right at us. Like an intricate mask, writhing in ghastly pain. A shadowy figure takes form underneath it. The mask grows limbs made of shadow and a glowing red eye forms above its disturbing head. That ruby light seems to pierce right to my soul. It then lets out a bone-chilling wail since it's ready to attack us.

Before I can think, my finger goes for the boom switch.

A single shot shatters the mask like a goddamn clay pigeon. Ringing fills my ears for a moment from the echoing explosion in the hollow mountain.

"Fuck," I pant, "that wasn't a bad shot."

However, the ghost doesn't disappear along with its Anchor Object, or the destroyed clay mask. Instead, it reforms into a dark mass with spines which lunges forward in our direction.

"What the hell?!" Terror washes over me. "How's the shadow still here without its Anchor?!"

It smashes against her barricade, a cyan lattice that glows brightly when struck. The shadowy phantom recoils back. A violet rift opens high above its glowing eye. From the abyss, eviscerating blades and knives wrought of the same shadowy material pour out. These projectiles plunge at us, smashing against the barricade, dissolving into a bubbling blight that pours down the transparent shield.

My eyes race from the barrage back to Ette. She's using her psychic powers to block the assault, but I can tell she's exerting herself by the way she winces from each impact. The shield starts growing weaker, its luster nearly completely coated in corrosive scourge.

Ette, in a beset voice, says, "Can't hold it off much longer!"

I look up, and see a huge pillar joined with the path higher up. It's right over the portal. I take aim and fire at the narrow portion. The shot rips through the stone, cracking it in just the right place.

Dust blows outward as the column starts to collapse. It careens down, crushing through the portal and dispelling it on its way. Only one problem. "It's falling right toward us!" I yell, tumbling to the side.

Ette's too weak to even move. Her barrier evaporated, she's left winded with arms outstretched, frozen in place.

She'll get killed if I don't do something! I sprint and shove into her with all my might, right before the pillar crashes on top where she was standing and the shadow monster, shaking the whole interior violently.

The blow knocks us both over, and I feel her hold on to my body tightly as the quake worsens. If the floating isle of stone we're on breaks apart, it's a long way down. We'd die. The fallen pillar starts to roll, destroying part of the structure the shadow monster came from on its path. My eyes follow its destruction until it leaves our sight along with whatever remnant of the ghost. Then only the noises of grinding stones echo in the hollow mesa.

A few tense moments seem like hours from all the adrenaline. Gradually, the chaos fades into the darkness. I'm breathing heavily. My pounding heart feels like it's on fire. But there's also warmth from underneath me.

"…Alv," she says. Her arms grasp my shoulders. "Alv, are you alright…?"

"Uhh…" My brain takes a second to reboot itself. Why the hell am I lying on top of her? Oh, that's right, to save her from getting killed. "Y-Yeah. Fine. Whadda 'bout you?"

"Good." The lids of her eyes lower slightly. "I'm glad you saved me."

"Feeling's mutual. That was a kickass barricade."

She flushes. I can't help but look into her eyes. They're two orange jewels in the dark. Even if we're only a few inches apart, those gems of hers are so deep and bright, she robs me of my already scarce breath.

Ette asks me, "Mind…helping me up?"

"Sure—" I start to say, before she throws her arms around the back of my neck. My eyes open wide as she pulls herself close. With her hugging me, her heart is right against my torso. It's warm, yet not at all like Sera's which felt painfully hot. Although, it's difficult to tell where her warmth begins because my body is also warm from this unexpected encounter with her.

She places her head on my shoulder and says, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." I try to pass it off as nothing, but my drubbing heart gives my feelings away.

"And Alv?" Ette says to my ear.

"Yeah?" My voice is raspy.

Her soft ear nudges my neck, freeing the bandages from before. "If you tell anyone, I'll give you that lobotomy I promised."

Did she lose her mind? In shock, my head moves away from hers. "What lobotomy?"

She uses that moment of uncertainty to turn her head and peck my cheek.

It's short, sweet, and definitely soft. I'm stupefied.

Ette's face pulls away silently. She lowers her gaze to the small space between our bodies.

"I…huh?" I'm at a loss for words. She just kissed me. Planted a damn kiss on my cheek.

"What? I've read it's a simple way of showing gratitude. You saved my life twice."

Stupidly, I answer back, "I did?" No shit I saved her, but my mild voice might as well be in a different region from the cyclone of thoughts going through my mind.

"Yeah," she says softly, then reminds, "because of that, we'll save Morse together."

"Right." Thank goodness she's rational. I start to lift myself off her. However, her hands don't let go from being clasped behind my neck. My eyes glance at her arms as if to say, "What are you doing?"

Ette smiles. "You can lift me up. It's part of your mandatory physical therapy regiment after all."

In response I groan. Though, it's not too difficult a task since she's light.

"Very good," she says, releasing me, albeit after one short squeeze. Her telekinesis snatches the phone off the ground and into her hand with a snap. "Let's go rescue our candle friend!"


	9. Chapter 9: Trek to the Pinnacle

Chapter 9: Trek to the Pinnacle

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There's one last leveled section of the incline on our way to the top of the coiling trail twisting within the belly of the dusty mesa. We must have gone around the interior about five times so far on our corkscrew ascent. Right before we get to a wide ledge leading up to a sunlit opening the path becomes treacherously steep. The uneven sand, coupled with being hundreds of feet in the air in a dim cavern, turns a mundane hike into a perilous climb.

To make matters worse, the whole time my mind won't quit asking questions.

I get it. I saved her. She wanted to thank me for not letting her get crushed. But her way of thanking me stirred all sorts of thoughts. The most frustrating thing is I can't help but feel the way I do. I liked it. A lot. And I can't tell anyone. Not even her. Talk about a conundrum. As if I wasn't already in enough trouble. Wanted by the law first for what I did at the clinic, then for kidnapping her, and now having these feelings for her? I'm screwed. Totally screwed. I need to focus on saving Morse, it's the only way to dismiss these feelings.

We continue up the hill in awkward silence. Eventually, the path levels out, widening into a large plateau about a hundred feet below the ceiling of the mountain.

"This looks like a place people lived." Ette shines the light on the various structures built out of the rock.

"More like the ruins of one," I reply. The little hamlet, if you could call it that, is deserted. "If people lived in this mountain, then what happened to them? And why was that monster wearing a human mask?" So many questions, but at least it takes my mind off Ette for a bit. Damn, I can't help it.

"Maybe the people all ran away?" Ette suggests.

"And leave no trace behind?" Despite the signs of civilization, there aren't any prints in the sand, so it feels like we're the first ones stepping on the moon. "There's no wind in here, so what's the deal with that?"

"Hmm…maybe they could float?"

Leave it to the psychic to think of that.

"Well, if they were sleepwalking and fell off the edge, it would be a really long fall." Ette pouts. "Wouldn't it help if they had wings?"

"Guess so." We pass by the structures wrought of stone, their cavernous shadows leading further into the mountain's shell. "Does seem more like a bunker than a place a civilization would call home. Maybe there are some artifacts that'll give us a hint."

"Or maybe the ghosts hold the key!" Ette says excitedly.

"Hey, we already got one ghost we're looking for. Let's not get too carried away."

She laughs softly in response.

Our banter eases my nerves, but only slightly. It's weird to talk with her so casually like nothing happened between us just then. She's acting so normal and it's driving me nuts. If I were a psychic, I'd be using telepathy to figure out what's really going underneath her nonchalant attitude.

Fortunately, we don't encounter any more ghosts as we skirt around the abandoned settlement. The light leading to the peak is just ahead, up this last slope. "When we bust outta there, it's gonna be bright, broad daylight. I dunno 'bout you, but my eyes adjusted to the dark, so I'll probably be blind for a few seconds."

"Brought your light but forgot to pack shades? Talk about being unprepared." She huffs.

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble. "Why don'tcha teleport a pair here for me?"

"Why not just rely on this?" She shines the light right in my eyes.

"What the—?" I try to look away, but she's quick to lean in, forcing it close to my face.

"Ta-da, now your pupils aren't as dilated." Ette snickers. "I should be an ophthalmologist."

"That's not funny!" I bark. "You shouldn't shine bright lights in people's eyes!"

Her arm taps my cast. "It was me or the sun, you're welcome."

I can still only see the bright flash as I blink, like a big, fat diamond carved into my field of vision. "And how're you gonna see?"

"My eyes adjust faster to changes in the environment. That's why they're so big!" she says cheerfully.

"Sounds like a bunch of BS," I grumble. "Alright, here's the plan, I'll jump out there first, get the big bird's attention. You follow 'n go nab Morse."

"Simple plan." Her lips form a sly smirk. "It's one thing you do well."

"When a million things could go wrong, simple is best," I assert. "Don't forget to give it hell if shit starts going sideways."

Ette nods in understanding. Not sure how well she can fight. I've only really seen her use support moves and telekinesis. The latter might be useful.

With a bold gait, I walk out to the precipice. The view takes my breath away. I can see for miles. Endless dunes of gold, rocky red peaks far in the distance, jagged cliffs and sharpened spires that pierce out from the desert. The maws of earth resemble sharks. The arid wind blows through my hair, and I can't help but feel like I'm on a desert planet.

But now's not the time to take in the sights. Under the great blue sky stretching out in all directions, it's tough to tell how wide and flat the top of the mesa is. One thing's for sure, too many steps in any direction would lead to a quick demise.

Near the center of the plateau, there's a large nest, made of sun-bleached bones. The white corpses are contrasted by a giant black bird in the center of this obscene graveyard.

"Hey!" I holler at the oversized vulture. "Ugly!"

It looks up, its horrid long neck twisting about like a pale pink snake. Bits of gore drip from its rotting, flint-colored beak.

"Yeah, you!" I yell. "You…sonuvabitch, stealing my buddy! I'll rip off all your feathers, stuff 'em in a damn pillow to sit my ass on!"

The avian hops from her nest. Screeching, she spreads wings about the span of an eight-wheeler. Fuck, she's big even at a distance. Can't let her intimidate me, I've got a good enough plan to save Morse.

"C'mon, shithead! You think you're gonna spook me from way over there?" I point the rifle towards her chest. "Dumbass bitch."

Mandibuzz starts to flap her wings, puffing out her pecs. She leaves her roost and heads toward me. As she takes flight, some of the carcasses from the nest dance around her fleeting form, surrounding her in a sphere of bone fragments.

"Yeah, that's right, c'mere, fuckface!"

Ette better make her move.

Time to make my own. Hot brass flies out as I fire at the approaching buzzard.

My aim is true, but her bone shield causes a disastrous ricochet for the bullet.

"Damn!" I try again, this time more frantically. "You wanna play rough, huh?"

Again, her bone barrier is impenetrable by my shot ringing out in vain. She's getting closer too.

Round after round, these relics of the war just can't break through her physical blockade without being deflected. At this rate, I'll be out of bullets before one takes a proper bounce into her vitals.

In the corner of my eye I see Ette. Her movements are as spry as can be, but I hope she can rescue Morse before the buzzard tries to clamp talons on my head.

Without warning, Mandibuzz accelerates.

"Shit!"

A powerful gale accompanying her aerial rush knocks me backward. Hovering in front of me, her wings beat fast which tosses me on the slippery sand covering the smooth stone of the mesa. As I roll, my grip on the rifle is forfeited, but the sling keeps it attached on my back. To my dismay, her continuous wind attack pushes me near the edge.

Typical vulture, she's going to let the fall kill me and come for the corpse! I hunker low and try to weather the sandstorm ripping at my flesh. The offensive noise of my soles grating on the loose sand unable to grip anything doesn't abate as I tumble.

From behind the bird, a brilliant Ember flies through the pristine blue sky. The lob of combustion smashes into the buzzard's shield from the other side. Morse is back!

With his conflagrations on my side, that heavy shield of hers becomes a liability. Squinting through the gale, I call out, "Hit her with Fire Spin!"

However, Morse's attack is delayed. It doesn't come. Something's wrong, but I can't tell from my vantage. I'm cornered by the buzzard and about to be thrown off the cliff. My body loses the last bit of unstable ground from the hurricane-force winds. I slip off the side of the flat rock face and barely manage to grab hold of a slab of rock before plummeting down.

Mandibuzz's squall is blocked by the edge, however I make the mistake of looking down. A dizzying vertigo overwhelms me from the sight of my legs dangling some thousand plus feet in open air. My fear of heights takes over and I squirm furiously, trying to get a second hold on the rock face with my shoes. The weight of my body, equipment, it's all relying on the stubbornness of my good arm. My sweat-soaked palm starts to lose sensation. I can't keep this up for much longer.

Just then, the big buzzard lumbers up to my whitened knuckles. She looks at my hand struggling to keep hold and I swear her bloody beak smiles. Her long neck slithers toward it, her menacing intent all too apparent.

That's when a blast sounding like a suppressed gunshot pierces through the air. Who the fuck did that? My rifle's still on my back.

Mandibuzz jolts forward off the side of the cliff as if she's been hit. The bones once circling her start to dissipate. She squawks and flaps her wings, but she's been hit hard enough to be tossed off balance and falls straight on top of me. Whether I hold on or let go, either way I'll be knocked to my death!

"DAMMIT!" I yell out.

"NO!" shouts Ette from the distance. "ALV!"

As the buzzard collapses, I release my hand from the rock and snatch her filthy feathers with a death grip. My legs grapple around her large wings to plant my rear firmly on her back.

The speed of the wind howls as it passes my ears, makes my eyes sear, and sends my hair wildly back as we approach terminal velocity. Her inexorable screeches fill the chaotic air as well.

"Fly!" I yell, wrestling my fingers up her neck to grab the piece of bone jutting out from the back of her head. "Holy fucking shit, FLY, you fucking flying fuck!"

She knows she's going to die if she doesn't. Might be hideous, but she's not stupid. I'm not going anywhere now that I've got her by her rudder. Still, the world is spinning, from blue to red again and again as the sky and earth swap places faster than my eyes can keep up with. Suddenly, her great wings extend beneath my thighs and she stabilizes our descent, then starts to glide. Her oily, disgusting feathers coated with the stench of death make me want to vomit. Doesn't help how nauseating the bumpy ride is.

Mandibuzz starts to accelerate, then hoists us higher back toward her aerie. Once the boneyard comes into view, we nosedive towards her vacant nest. Her wails grow in ferocity as we approach. Just before the collision, her body abruptly stops and hovers near the den of bones. I lose hold on her and my body starts to slip.

Angrily, she smacks her wings and shakes madly trying to throw me off.

"Let's boogie, shitface, I'll make a rotisserie outta you yet!" I struggle to maintain a grip on her after she lands in the pile of carcasses. Her beak snaps viciously next to my torso. My hand's resistance behind her head keeps her from biting me.

Where the hell's Morse? I need some help here! I look for his flame, but only see Ette's lithe silhouette in my peripheral. What happened? He was just here!

Suddenly, another crack of power fills the air. This time I catch a glimpse of a brilliant ray of light, resembling a neon laser beam with a phosphorescent mist of sparkling gemstones surrounding it.

Mandibuzz's neck goes limp as the gleaming beam strikes its cranium. The rest of her body collapses unceremoniously into the nest without so much of a squawk.

"What the hell was THAT attack—?" I can't finish my thoughts before tumbling off the fainted buzzard. "Oof!" Landing hard on the collection of bones, a rib bone in the pile jabs me right in my own.

My body is shaking from all the adrenaline, my forehead is drenched, I barely manage to pull myself over and out of the painful nest.

"Ough," I groan, "Ette, did you see th—?"

Ette is standing there, holding her right arm straight out, her other hand beneath her elbow, frozen like a statue.

"Oh crap!" My mind assumes the worst. She's paralyzed again like last night! Scrambling, I limp toward her and try to snap her out of it. "Ette!"

To my alarm, she orders, "Stay…stay where you are!"

Pausing, I realize her voice is different, it's significantly more weighty than usual. "What's going on?" I glance at the motionless bird then back to her.

Slowly, she lowers her arms towards her chest as she heaves her breaths. "Haah!" she cries out in agony.

"Ette?!"

Her hands recoil from her core as if repelled by her own body, but then they have nowhere to go. In distress, her face scrunches up. She looks sickly, like she's about to throw up.

"Ette, what's wrong?!"

She winces in discomfort as her braids blow beside her in the dry breeze. "Just…don't come any closer," she entreats.

I've had it with her pretending to be tough. I march on over to her. The closer I get, the more terrified she appears. Finally, I find myself next to her.

"Ette, Ette!"

Every time I say her name, she shudders. Her blear eyes look like they're holding back tears. It's easy to spot small droplets in the corners of her orange eyes reflecting the brilliant sunlight.

"Please, Ette, talk to me! Did you do that to the bird?"

She hesitates. "I…I think?"

She thinks? Doesn't she know when she uses her powers? My heart's beating so fast from worrying about her. "Ette. You saved my life. I was about to lose control of her."

"I…" Her expression is strained. "Alv, I feel terrible inside."

"What's wrong?!" What's she talking about? "I don't understand!"

"Like, my body…it's rejecting the power I used."

"What?! How?!"

She starts choking on her labored breaths. "I don't want this…help…"

Without warning she collapses.

"Ette!" I exclaim, catching her in my arm. That's when I realize she's on fire. Her whole body is quivering, and her heart is absolutely searing. All the heat is centering around the crystal splitting her bosom. "Hey, answer me!"

She shakes her head. "I'll…be alright…just—nugh!—need some rest." Her form trembles as she coughs dryly. "Morse…he's…" She points at the cave, trying to collect herself enough to speak with clarity. "Four Vullaby from the nest…chased after him. Ran back the way we came. He's faster, but they had numbers."

"So that's what happened. You focused on the big bird so he could run diversion on the little ones."

"I'll admit, you looked…funny riding it." She tries to force a strained smile but winces as sharp pain appears on her face. "Agh! …I'm glad you're alright though."

"Forget about me! We need to focus on you."

"Looks like I overdid it," she says sheepishly, her gaze sinking to her inflamed heart. "My chest really hurts, Alv."

"You're going to be okay!" I insist. However, I don't know the first thing about her heart. How it works, what's causing this, none of it makes any sense to me. I don't have knowledge of whatever's going on with her! I'm no doctor, no expert on her species, just some random guy who got thrown into the situation. There's nothing I can do for her but hold her hand tightly in mine.

She replies with nothing more than a fragile, mewing whimper. Her eyes lose focus.

"Dammit!" Had she not come with me I'd be dead. Yet her condition worsened, and we lost Morse again so we're right back where we started. "C'mon Ette, I can't leave without you."

"Go after Morse." Her panting breaths grow shallower as I hold her. "They're angry, very angry, about what happened to their mother."

"Goddammit!" My mind is made up. "You're coming with me!"

Ette's hazy eyes open a little. "W-What? I…I can't walk."

"I'll carry you then."

"How?" she asks.

"There." My strength isn't what it used to be thanks to my injured arm, however, Ette's light. If she leans against my good side, I can support most of her weight. "You really think I'd ditch my hostage?"

She doesn't say anything. Her heart's dangerously hot as it presses against my clothes, but I'll endure it, since it's not like she can do anything about it. If I find this uncomfortable, I can only imagine how bad it must be for her.

"Let's get outta the burning sun."

The two of us slowly make our way out of the scorching daylight.

Once we're back in the shade, Ette tugs on my collar. "Okay, now go save Morse."

"Tch! You trying to get me killed?" I shake my head and force us along. "There's only one way down this path, Ette, together. You're on flashlight duty."

She grumbles to herself, clutching my phone as our light source. "You don't have to be so rough."

She's right, I'll try to be gentler with her. It just makes me extremely angry to think she'd be so willing to be left for dead that I'm seeing red! I got carried away—what the hell's wrong with me? No, I feel this way for a reason, I'm worried for her. What the hell is wrong with her?! "Don't you want to get outta here alive?"

"How're you going to find your friend with me weighing you down?" she asks.

"I'll manage just fine, Ette." Her pessimistic attitude is really getting on my nerves, but I want to help her more than anything. "Start by not being such a burden on yourself."

"On myself?" Ette blinks. "I'm a burden to you."

"Yeah, no. Quit being hard on yourself. I don't care if I gotta haul your ass back to the truck, just stop that shit right now. Stop being so hard on yourself, Ette, tryin' to make it seem like y'don't matter, it's beyond irritating to me, honestly."

She's quiet for a bit. Good thing too, we make more progress when she's not drowning in despair.

Once we descend to the higher of the two ruined settlements, I pause to look around at the eerie structures lining the path ahead. Nervousness starts to eat at my mind. "We're lookin' for a ghost in a ghost town. Who'd've guessed."

"You almost sound excited," she tells me wearing a frown.

"Ab-so-fucking-lutely thrilled. You said there were four little birds that chased after him after you saved him from the nest? Don't see any sign of them."

"Morse was very strategic," Ette says, leaning on my chest, "he knew splitting up the mother's forces would let me get an attack off."

"Yeah, he's a bona fide commando if you ask me. What was that attack you used anyway?"

She avoids my gaze, her face scrunches up. "I don't know the name of it. I felt myself concentrating a certain…energy onto a single point, then releasing it when it's strong enough to manifest into physical reality." Ette tugs at my rifle's sling. "Your cartridges function in a similar manner, they contain both a charge and a projectile."

"No frickin' way!" I pant in disbelief. "You can charge the air with your mind and detonate it to propel the force?"

"Sort of," she says. "I'm not very good at battle maneuvers, since I've mostly practiced healing. It helped keep you alive, I think."

"You kiddin'? Of course it helped. You don't have to worry about ammo with your mind! That's so freaking cool!"

"It has a cost that bullets don't. This…energy always has to come from someone—err, somewhere!" Ette stammers.

I raise my brow. "Uh, someone?"

"It's based on sentiments, emotions, feelings. That's what gives it power—I think, I hope, I— never mind!" Ette's speaking faster than normal. "Understand?"

"Not really." Ette seems to be in an internal struggle. I try to look her in the eyes, yet she averts me. "But the gist is: using it will get you in trouble."

"Exactly."

"Darn." My head droops, I realized I messed up by implying her mind is like a loaded magazine. I don't want any harm to come to her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound like an ass."

"It's okay," she meekly answers.

"No, I'm really sorry about how I said that, sometimes I can't help saying dumb shit because of my past," I admit. "I want you to know I don't see you like a weapon, but who you are. And I don't want you to ever use that power if it hurts you."

"I only used it to protect you."

"To protect? I'm wondering if that's what being your species entails."

"That's difficult to answer," she sighs, "think you could tell me what being a human 'entails'?"

"Uhh, no." She's witty even when not feeling well. She had her ironclad response delivered like a smooth operator in no time flat. The best thing is she's totally right. I can't tell her exactly what being a human entails. Nor would I want to, being a human is tough to wrap my head around, there's no simple answer. She feels a similar way about herself, I can tell, which means we're not as different as we look. Why do I keep saying stupid stuff around her?

Suddenly she squeezes on my arm. "Once we find Morse, you should really bring me back to town."

"Oh yeah, of course, we're gonna get you help."

"No. I mean take me back home."

I almost fall back in surprise. "Wait, what're you saying? Was it something I said?"

"No. I don't want to…I don't want to get you in more trouble than you're already in."

Something doesn't add up. The most basic question comes to mind: Why did she want to come with me in the first place? It's like she's hiding something from me. Can't figure out what though. Is it her power? Its source? What the hell is it?

"You're quiet," Ette says finally.

If only she'd read my damn mind! My thoughts are anything but silent. There's a storm of thoughts in my head. I can't have all my thoughts centered around her now, we need to find Morse. I push my way through the mental gale and say rigidly, "Ette, let's focus on Morse for now. Then we'll figure out how to get you back home."

"Okay."

My sigh belies my worries.

"What will you do then?" she presses.

I shrug. "Dunno. But if you think I'm gonna go back, tail between my legs, you're wrong. Dead wrong. Failure is not an option. I'll hunt down the treasure all by myself."

"The treasure…" Ette rambles sleepily, "That Knot of Destiny…is that what she was talking about…?"

Could our fates really be connected by that thing? No way. I refuse to accept that. I'm in control of what happens. Maybe Ette feels the same way and that's why she's acting so weird. Then there's also Sera, who said she sensed we shared something powerful. Could she have been talking about the artifact? Is that the reason why she didn't want to let us go? Was there even a reason for her actions? Whatever Sera did to us felt motivated by us sharing something, even if they were just our emotions.

Okay, let's say that something has power over fate and isn't some hoax. By going our separate ways, would willpower be enough to break its spell? Or would we keep running into each other? Do we need to find it to change anything? Do I want that? That's assuming it influences us.

What started out as a treasure hunt is turning into something more dangerous; it keeps getting us both into trouble. I recall the serendipity of seeing her during the precept match, how I chased her down like a Houndour, only to bump right into her in the little shack in the woods. All of it felt more than coincidence in retrospect. But I also realize my mind plays tricks on me, forms patterns, and looks to find reasons for the ways I feel. Perhaps right now I'm trying to come up with an excuse for how that kiss made me feel.

As our gradual procession down the mountain path continues, I glance at her. Even if we feel the same about a lot, she's not entirely like me. And that complicates the whole thing.

I just hope Morse is okay. Could sure use the little guy's company.


	10. Chapter 10: Cavernous Shadows

Chapter 10: Cavernous Shadows

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The cavern is just as ominous as before. It's dry and dark, the air is thick with the scent of dust. Our progress has slowed with me supporting Ette as we descend through the interior of the mesa. We're still only two-thirds of the way from the bottom after leaving the precipice, and once again surrounded by the abandoned ruins.

According to Ette, Morse went this way. However, his light isn't anywhere to be seen. Along the snaking trail, there are jagged spires rising from the dim confines of the earth. These fangs of rock cast sharp shadows, like hooded monsters, upon the eerie traces of a forgotten past.

"Remember, it's steep here." I start to set Ette down. My head tilts in the direction of the abyss adjacent to the pathway to the ruins. "Can you manage?"

"I can try," she replies.

She does not release my shoulder. Still, I tell her, "Hold on and we'll go slow down this part."

Her legs shakily step on the dusty path. While the route isn't particularly narrow, there's a huge drop looming nearby and she's hardly able to keep herself standing. I guide her closely from the side. The two of us may be beaten-up, but together we manage to make it down the hazardous section of the trail.

Once the passage levels out again, she falls against me. "Sorry, I…I'm weak."

"Don't apologize." Because she leans her head close the sweet clementine scent of her hair is impossible to ignore, which in turn makes my heart beat faster. "C'mon, we need to hurry."

"Alv, are you okay?" she asks as her delicate ear rests on my pounding chest.

"Fine." I lie. "You did pretty good back there."

"Really?" She shakes her head and looks up at me with cynical eyes. "You're so full of it."

I rather her call out that lie than question my thoughts. "Do you need a break?"

"As long as I have you to lean on, I should be okay."

"Good." I take a breath and lift her.

"You look sick too. You're all red—" Ette points out with a squeeze on my shirt "—and really warm."

She's warm too, which concerns me. I quietly hope that we're both going to be alright. "Yeah, try riding a nose-diving Mandibuzz off a cliff. Wasn't as fun as it looked. Sheesh. Still feels like I've got more adrenaline than blood in my veins."

An unexpected grating sound comes from behind us. Hair stands up on the back of my neck. I try to turn, but Ette grasping me by the side torpors my movement.

The noise is followed by a torrent of frigid air. The gust of wind passes over us both. I attempt to hold my breath, but Ette convulses into a coughing fit, squashing my abdomen and limiting my air intake.

In the wake of the Haze, there's a stout Vullaby. It screeches and caws, waddling side to side.

"Well, aren't you cute," I laugh. Can't reach for the rifle slung on my back, Ette's got her body in the way, but don't think I'll need to. The chubby pest looks frightened. After what we did to its mother, I'd be scared too.

"What are you talking about?" Ette says worriedly.

"C'mon Ette, she's just a little scamp. What, are you jealous I called her cute?"

"No." Though she flushes, her tone is dead serious. "Look! It doesn't have a proper shadow."

My eyes travel to where she's pointing the now vibrating cell's light. Instead of stubby wings being cast on the pillars of stone behind it there's nothing. But there is an oblong shadow underneath the pudgy bird. And that unsuitable shadow is bubbling beneath it like some sort of hot tar.

My blood turns cold. "Oh, shit!"

Seeing my reaction, the viscous shadow wraps itself over the screeching bird. Its constitution rapidly morphs as the gluttonous glob of darkness enters the poor creature, shredding through its feathers and eggshell at the same time.

I'm about to be sick as the wailings of the Vullaby are replaced by deeply disturbing cracking and caustic sounds echoing in the indistinct ruins. A dense smog only slightly conceals the shadowy spines that act as appendages. These tendrils connect the different pieces of the partially devoured Vullaby in all the wrong places. Its beak gets tethered to its talons, misshaping its corpse into a horribly twisted shape as the shadow responsible assumes a vaguely familiar outline of the mask-less ghost from before.

There's nothing but fear. My own, or Ette's, it's impossible to tell any more. Just like before, we're feeling the same thing, but right now, with this awful scene we're witnessing, it feedbacks from one of us to the other in an out of control manner. It's the most unpleasant thing imaginable as our terror at what's unfolding magnifies without end.

Suddenly I snap out of the dizzying well of emotions just as those bladed spines from earlier burst out from the eggshell, further scattering pieces of the hapless bird into a mangled mess of savagery. The abomination proceeds to advance toward us, shrieking in a distorted tone of the ghost out from the gullet of the massacred Vullaby.

Ette isn't going to be able to shield us like before in her current state. However, there is one thing I can do really well instead.

"Run!" I grab hold of her and bolt toward the closest structure.

Doesn't take long for her to realize where I'm going with her. "We don't know what's in there!"

"Yeah," I gasp, "but we sure as hell know what's out here!"

The monstrosity is slow in its new form, nevertheless its strikes collide loudly behind us. I tumble into the den and release Ette. I turn around to slam the door, catching a glimpse of it using the technique to summon those dark blades. It impales them into the ground, spraying plumes of that vile, black blight with each smash.

It takes all my strength to shut the heavy granite door. The pugnacious strikes reverberate through the stone. I see the black goop seeping in underneath the door. Scrambling, I get to my knees, shoveling the sandy dust on the floor to fill the gap. This cuts off the draft and stops the nasty scourge from leaking in.

"What are you doing?" Ette puts her arm on my shoulder. "Won't it phase right through the wall?"

"Gee, sure fucking hope not," I pant, bracing my back against the shaking door. "Good thing habits are tougher to break than rocks."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks frantically.

"Didja get a look at that ghost bastard before I shot its Anchor? Was wearing a human face!" The pounding on the other side of the door starts to subside.

Sniffing, Ette's hand dabs her damp cheeks below frightened eyes. "It was?"

"Yeah, looked real scared. Like…raw screaming." My voice lowers. "Might've been another guy exploring the ruins. Carried that face with him to the grave."

Her grasp on me tightens in fright. "What was he feeling?" she wonders in a shaken voice.

"Fear." I slide my open hand across my neck. "His death was probably a bad one." The attack hits against the door again, rattling my already battered body even more. "Those're always the most violent ghosts."

"Y-You can't be serious." Despite her shock, Ette steadies herself and asks rationally, "Then what's stopping him from floating through the wall?"

"Hm, well, I'd reckon, if that ghost used to be a person, it's got person-tendencies ingrained in its form." I dip my chin. "People don't normally walk through walls, so, hopefully, the ghost doesn't either."

"What?!" Her jaw drops in bewilderment. "How do you know all this?"

"I don't." Really, I might have told her too much. "Just a guess."

"Unbelievable!" Ette crawls toward me. "How would you even know to guess?"

The only thing unbelievable is how persistent she is. Almost as stubborn as the ghost blasting the door with attacks. I wave her off. "From a few things I've read over the years of my long life."

"You're not that old," she fires back.

"So?" I clench from another strike shaking the door. "Maybe one day that info will come in handy for an aspiring trainer."

"I don't believe you." She puckers her lips, glaring at me, and holding my phone out like a surgical knife. "Morse's been following you around nonstop, you're – supposedly – not a trainer, but you sure know how to coach like one. And then there's your phone, with capture balls on the screen! What's that supposed to mean?"

She looked at it. Honestly, I should've known better. My mistake was giving it to the curious psychic and never getting around to deleting the nostalgic homescreen. "Psh! Found it off some scrub who left it in his pocket. Idiot was probably trying to be a trainer."

The shuddering door rattles my bones again.

"Then why, oh, WHY, does it have a banner that reads "Ops. Para. A. P."?! Those are your initials, Alvin Paine!"

Ette's seriously pushing her luck asking these questions. "Ngh, dumb coincidence." I grit my teeth as the bashes continue relentlessly on the other side.

"Huh?!" She gets right in my face, and the periodic attacks push me closer to her where I can't escape. Our foreheads bump unexpectedly. But she doesn't back off, in fact she pushes in, further sandwiching me with her arms over my shoulders as she straddles my body and pushes back on the door as well. "Huh?! You think you can trick me? What's it mean?!"

"It means, you shouldn't go snooping through people's personal stuff when they specifically tell you not to!"

"Personal, huh?" I detect a hint of smug satisfaction as the side of her lip rises. "So, it IS yours."

Walked right into that trap of hers. Damn, either she's cunning or I'm plain stupid. "Told you: Don't worry about it, Ette," I growl.

"What's Ops. Para. mean?" she demands.

"Means mind your damn busine—!" The monster outside blasts the door with an incredible force that shakes the entire structure. Even Ette jumps in surprise. My back braces the door, the rifle tumbles off my shoulder but is caught by my sleeve.

Her arm clings onto the stock and brushes against my side, her motions flowing like water as she clasps my broken arm in her grip. "In case you haven't realized, until you pay back the clinic: YOU are my business."

"And just who are YOU?" I retort. "Some affluent princess, daughter of a prominent physician, weary of her silver spoon, who wants to use my mission to see the countryside?"

Nailed it. She recoils, tightening her grip on my bicep. Both her eyes shoot daggers at mine from beneath her bangs.

"Right now, that's all I know about you," I say heatedly. "But that can't be all there is to Ette, the singing Gardevoir!"

The pounding on the door starts to taper down; the frequency of the blows diminishes, yet not their force. Still, Ette is looking at me wide-eyed like I've poked at her very soul.

I'm already on a roll, so I give it to her with a straight pitch. "Why don'tcha tell me about yourself —Who you REALLY are!— y'know, the way you were before? When we left your home, when you said you suddenly realized you were a nurse because you wanted to help others, but you ALSO wanted to find out who you really are underneath all your responsibilities! Open up, Ette! Instead of demanding I do all the explaining, while hiding your true self behind these mirages!"

"W-What?" she stammers.

The door groans. A bit of dust falls from the top, but it maintains its composition.

"Goddamn…I had to get that off my chest." It takes a few tries to catch my fleeting breath. "I don't think it's getting in. But that means we're gonna need to find another way out."

Ette leans in closer still. She doesn't fully put her head next to mine, so I can still see her frightened face.

Silence fills the air as the attacks banging against the door cease. Nevertheless, I'm still trembling. All that pent-up emotion and stress really took a toll on me.

The light of my phone screen barely illuminates Ette's visage, and her pointy ears cast long shadows on the masonry behind her petrified expression.

"Pass that here."

Scowling, she reluctantly hands the cell to me. The rest of her body doesn't budge though.

"Only a quarter of juice left." It must have gone into battery-saving mode. My arm guides it like a lighthouse beacon in an arch above us.

The room is surprisingly spacious, like a sort of secret base, yet it narrows as it goes deeper into the mountain. Antique furniture is strewn all over the dusty floor, giving it a lost-in-time feel. It'd be almost homey if there wasn't a coat of dirt on everything. There's a rustic atmosphere, which makes it easy to see why people from another time would be able to dwell here. Most surprisingly is the faint amount of flickering color shimmering through the layer of dust as the light passes over cast-iron cookery in the corner, fashioned chairs of birch, and a rich cedar table nearby.

In a matter-of-fact way, Ette huffs, "This is where they frequently congregated. I sense it."

"You can?" The telltale signs of former occupancy are physically there thanks to the furniture, but I'm intrigued by what exactly Ette sees.

Her eyelids lower slightly as if she's visualizing something as the light travels across the room. "A lot of emotions met here."

"Emotions?" I repeat in a whisper. "How do you see those?"

"Alv." She winces. "I don't think I could explain it to you."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't see them," she says bluntly. "I don't want to make you sad since you can't."

"Oh." I shake my head. "Don't worry, it won't make me sad."

Again, she looks uncomfortably at me and bites her lip.

"Fine. If you don't feel like describing it, how about explaining how you can sense them when no one's even here?"

"No one?" Ette seems shocked I said that.

"Yeah, except the ghost outside, I guess."

"Aren't you forgetting someone?" Her hands clasp her heart.

"Huh?" My eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Empathy means having the ability to feel things that others do, or did. For us, it's always there." She pauses. "_They're_ always there."

Her empathic powers are interesting to say the least. I want to tell her I'm impressed she's able to glimpse the past through feelings long since gone, by means of somehow 'seeing' them as her own through empathy. Yet I don't need her level of empathy to tell she's still upset with me and holding back. Reaching my hand out, I tap my fingers on one of the nearby table legs. The wood is coarse, almost enough to give me a splinter. "Do you know when those feelings were around?"

"No." She shakes her head. "I can't tell when. They're there, I see them, then I feel them too, that's how it goes."

"It's alright, don't worry yourself, Ette. I don't want to stress you out. Let's search around for another clue."

From our position by the door, we start our investigation. Doesn't take very long before Ette points to a leather-bound tome tucked beside some metal junk on the table. "Oh! Look, Alv, it's a book!" Her ears do that happy wriggling thing again, revealing how she feels despite her trying to keep a stern expression. "I like to read."

"Hm, you do?" I pick it up for her and blow the dust off it. The first few pages are written in some sort of unreadable code. "Damn, what've we stumbled on?"

She flips the pages using her telekinesis. Near the end, there's handwriting scrawled in a frantic manner.

"The mission has failed," I read in the dim light of the phone, "we could not recover the excavated resources. At this point, I fear the others are losing their sanity and cannot help but believe we are living on borrowed time. Our commander left earlier this week along with the Red Lieutenant."

Red Lieutenant? Didn't Grant say he was the Pathwalker's right hand 'mon? The Last Pathwalker, who mysteriously disappeared after completing all the Trials in Rocaire before the Path supposedly became cursed.

Ette continues to read in my stead, "…They are going on a mission to find a different way to stop the insanity plaguing the region. People and monsters are filled with an intense wrath and anger that seems to take hold of them, a possession. Don't trust what the infirmary says about it being rabies spread by the beasts in the Savage Lands either." She pauses, then gulps. "R-Rabies…"

"What's that involve?" I ask. "Any symptoms he's describing?"

"Abnormal behavior, paranoia, anxiety, insomnia, confusion, agitation, terror, hallucinations, eventually progressing to complete delirium," she says. "It could look like the insanity he's talking about, but why's he insist it's possession?"

"Paranormal shit likes to be innocuous, if it can be rationalized as a sickness, people will accept its 'reason' for being there." I nudge her. "Gives the supernatural more power in our world, yeah?"

She eyes me warily, unable to figure out my perspective on it. Then opens her mouth as if to ask me something.

Before she does, I point my finger. "We better keep reading."

She returns to the scribbles, but not before making a sulk. "…I've seen it in the afflicted eyes, a killing glow, yearning for blood to spill all over them. I hear them wailing outside incessantly. Yet, I have been in the dark for so long, I worry the affliction has begun to have at me as well. I plan to escape this madness and return to my family. The war has ended, and so too should the carnage. Sgt. Briers."

It's quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Ette is shivering, she can't hide that when she's leaning on my side.

I break the silence. "This is some spooky shit. What the hell were forces doing here looking for resources after the war? The chain of command was in place, but even the sarge gave up near the end."

"What if he saw the ghost too?" she wonders.

"I'm not sure." I grumble and flip through the blank pages following the note. "Just who is this Red Lieutenant guy? What's he got to do with this place and the previous Pathwalker?"

Ette tilts her head. "Says he was on a mission to stop the insanity. Whatever that means."

Maybe the rumors Grant told me about in Cortex were right. The Red Lieutenant could still be on the hunt for a way to cure the supernatural problem troubling Rocaire. If the Path is somehow 'cursed' which makes completing the Trials increasingly more difficult for the Pathwalker, to the point where finishing it causes the Pathwalker to vanish, then maybe this 'mission' is still underway. Still, it's been a long time since the Great War. Whoever the Red Lieutenant is, he's tenacious even without the Pathwalker.

Ette's hand closes the book, awkwardly touching my hand as she does so. She yanks away in a flustered manner. "Are we trapped here?"

"Nah." I feign confidence. "See, if the people here were savvy enough to furnish their post, they'd have some sorta backup in case of emergency for sure. Besides, I think I feel air movement."

Her head looks to the dark corner further in. Its narrow blackness is an abyss that gobbles up the light. "That doesn't mean it won't be dangerous."

"Please." I adjust myself as her meager weight presses my side. "Let's at least have a look around here before we jump to those pessimistic conclusions."

"No." She holds me back with impressive strength belying her suppleness. "Alv, I want to trust you, but I can't! How do you expect me to? Why won't you tell me what's the deal with your phone? What's Ops. Para.? How come you seem to know so much about these strange things?! Just who are you?!"

It takes willpower to dampen my memories of the past, I've been doing it for a good while, but Ette has given me an ultimatum by putting her faith in me on the line. "Fine," I grunt. My nose itches as I breathe in the air ripe with a treacly aroma from her hair. "If we get outta here, I'll tell you. Otherwise, it's a waste of precious oxygen."

"What!" Her eyes widen and her grip on me loosens. "You said we weren't trapped in here!"

"Yeah." My expression sours. "Well, I lied." Been lying a lot, especially to myself.

She goes even more pale in the face and uses her fingers to pinch angrily at my skin. "Idiot!" Ette sulks, pulling away.

Great, now I can finally move. "Sorry." I try to help her to her feet, but she smacks my arm away. Whatever. If she wants space, so be it. I'll figure out how to escape on my own.

First thing is first. Need to investigate how far back the room goes, get a feel for the dimensions. I use the light to avoid bumping into the furniture or stepping on the various trinkets strewn messily on the floor. There's even a large hammer. As I hobble over the broken fragments of a person's life, my eyes focus on the part of the room that narrows like a trapezoid.

Placing my hand up to the wall at the very back, it feels strangely damp. Eagerly, I press my ear against it, greeted by the faint sounds of water. An incessant stream. "This room, it must be linked to another." Maybe there's a tunnel connection. Pipes? Sewage? An underground well? Who knows.

"Why do you think that?"

"God!" I jump. "Don't startle me like that!"

Ette's mere inches away, it's absurd how good she is at sneaking around. Didn't even realize she was following me.

After collecting myself, I ask, "Can you hear it?

She runs the side of her face on the wall. Closing her eyes, she presses close enough to warp her cartilage up high. "Mmm…yeah…sounds like—" Ette's eyes snap open.

"—Like someone's pissing, huh?"

"Why'd you have to say that?" she growls, with lowered brows and narrowed eyes in abhorrence.

"It's simple. If there's running water, then there's another way out."

Her cheek leaves the wall and she asks, "But how do we—?"

"We'll burst through the wall…or I would've said that if we had the means to. Let's search for a latrine."

"What? I'm not going to the bathroom with you!" she yells.

Can't help but roll my eyes as I turn. "Follow me if you wanna get out."

After making my way across the back of the dwelling, I come across a walled-off section guarded by a flimsy plank door. Kicking it over, I see the shit pit. Thankfully nothing in it.

"We're going to use the septic system to escape."

Her protruded tongue and an open-mouthed look of a baby who has just tasted bitter berry juice says it all. "That's…disgusting!"

I already know it'd be too tight a squeeze even for her. "Yeah, well, you got any better ideas?"

"Not getting covered in filth!"

"Hm, well, gee, I'd sure like that too." I start to reconsider, knowing we need to find Morse fast. "Huh, this wall, it's starting to erode. I wonder if…"

"What about using something here to break it?" suggests Ette.

"Oh! That's not a bad idea." Turning around I go back to the main room. "C'mon, where was it?"

"What are you searching for?" Ette asks me from behind.

"A big ol' hammer, saw it on my way over here."

"Oh, you mean this?" I turn to see her use her telekinesis to snatch the mallet off the floor I'd seen a moment ago.

"Yeah!" I cheer. "That'll do just fine."

She hands it over to me. It's got a good heft. Taking aim, I start whaling on the cracks above the toilet. Dust and dirt spews everywhere, nevertheless with each strike, progress is made. Eventually the whole lower part of the wall collapses, leading to a dark hollow.

"Phew." Setting the hammer down, I wipe the sweat off my brow. "Alright, let's see where this goes."

Ette probes the light through the crevasse. There's a small river at the bottom of the tight shaft.

"Suitable for climbing." I get down on my knees and crawl into the narrow hole. Once I get down around ten feet, my feet hit earth. Very muddy earth. "Alright, looks like there's a path down here for maintenance, toss me the light, then it's your turn." I call up to her.

She obliges, throwing down the phone. It'd be impossible to see anything in here, it's pitch-black and very claustrophobic. "Okay, I'm coming." She daintily fusses with her skirt, trying desperately to avoid letting the silk touch the earth as she shimmies in through the gap.

I glare at my phone. Only ten percent, the flashlight is eating through my battery like a hungry Snorlax. "Ette, c'mon, we don't have all day! Vámonos!"

"I said I'm com—aaah!"

That can't be good. I crane my neck up to see what's the matter. For a moment I get that view Morse was trying to get before. However, it's short-lived since she's falling rear-first straight toward me.

My vision goes dark as she lands on my face and I hit the ground. The impact knocks my phone right out of my hand too. I hear it plop somewhere in the water. "Oh…oh God. I can't see anything." I try to move, but the narrow chamber and Ette's body disorient everything.

"Stop it!" she yells. "Ow! That hurts!"

"Get your ass outta my face then!" I shout under her skirt.

"My WHAT?!" She squirms like crazy, pushing herself against me in the process. Since the chamber's so narrow she can't get off me. In a horrified voice she squeals, "Don't you dare look at my—!"

"—I can't see shit, Ette!"

"Where's the light!?" Her body's wriggling in panic. "You had it! I gave it to you!"

"I dropped it when you fell ass over head on top of me!"

"My ass isn't on top of my head!"

"You…argh!" I roll into a wet wall, nearly slipping out from under her, but the tight quarters prevent me from escaping. The shock causes Ette to clench up and her flushed skin to press firmly against my face, blocking my air. "Your ass is on my head!" I shout straight into her.

"There!" exclaims Ette, her muscles again tightening around my face. "I see it!"

"Mfph! Move your fucking leg outta my face, goddammit!"

"I can't, it's too narrow! I want to get out of here!" While floundering, she kicks my cast a few times making me want to yell more obscenities from the sharp pain.

I try to twist my neck in order to find another way out. I don't get very far before Ette slams down her hands against me. "What the hell?!" I try to say, yet my words are muffled.

"Eeep!" Ette exclaims in a shocked voice. She clamps down hard with her fingers as her body convulses. "Alv! You're looking right at my—!"

Oh. I see. Actually, no, I don't. But still, if she moves any more, it won't be her ass on my face, it'll be—! "I'm not looking at anything, I swear! It's pitch-black underwear!" Fuck me. Meant to say, 'under here'. Both are true since it's so damn dark.

"Nooo!" She wails and tries to spin, smacking my nose hard with her thigh as her other leg whacks my elbow. "How could you? You pervert!"

"Stop kicking me for fuck's sake!"

Now that my nose isn't nearly in her crotch her writhing ceases.

I yank her skirt off my face and see the faint source of my phone's light buried in the muck.

"There it is…" I grab at it. Her dress flops in my eyes again, obscuring everything before I can snatch it. "Oh, you have got to be kidding. Would you hold that skirt up? I only have one arm," I growl.

I feel her adjusting her body over me like we're connected. "I can't reach! My arms are stuck. There's not enough room."

My impatience is at its breaking point. "Use! Your! Kinesis!"

"Oh, right."

Suddenly, the veil of her skirt lifts. That phone's mine! My hand grabs through the mire and clenches it. Dexterously, my fingers wipe the grime off the light. I hold it out in my trembling hand victoriously and start laughing hysterically.

"What-What's so funny?" asks Ette. "What are you laughing at?"

I let it all out, my nerves and frustrations of being stuck like this flow away like the muddy water. "The way out is there! Right in front of us! Can you believe it?"

"I…what?" She's able to see and leans over me, pressing her core on the top of my head to look at where I'm pointing. "Ohh!"

We head through the septic tunnel, towards a wider section. However, I'm in such a rush, I take one step too far into nothingness.

"Shit!"

"Aaaah!"

Both of us fall, sliding down the slick channel. I desperately hold on to the light as the path twists like a waterslide. Meanwhile Ette's kicking and screaming behind me.

With a loud splash, we touch down into an underground pool. I scramble to my feet, the water's cold but only waist-deep.

Ette is flailing like a Magikarp, splashing like crazy. "THIS! IS! GROSS!"

I point the light at her. It doesn't look good. "So much for not getting your dress dirty. Stop thrashing, you're gonna get it all over."

She lunges at me, her arms wrap around my neck, and she tries to climb, using me to get herself out of the water.

"Knock it off!" I try to shake her loose. "Quit it, or else I'm gonna drop the light."

She pauses trying to climb on me. Her waterlogged form wonders, "Why did you think any of that was a good idea?"

"Because, we gotta find Morse." The cavern is half-filled, which causes my voice to echo. It's quite wide, much like an old cistern.

Ette's once frenzied expression softens. She lowers her chin and her soaked hair tumbles around her face. "You're right. You really care about him."

"Yeah." I stare deep into those golden eyes of hers. "I do. He's my friend. I won't leave him."

Her head tilts to the side. "I like that about you."

"What?" The way she tells me that, it feels like she's effortlessly managed to get right through my rough exterior. "Like, what?"

"You know, it's just something that's good," she waves with her hand.

"It is? Seems normal to me."

"You're going to look after your friends…and…" She bites her lip in hesitation.

"Go on," I encourage.

"Well, you'd look after your friends. I want to do that too."

"You can."

"Ugh! You're so dense!" She shivers from the coldness of the cavern. "What I want to know is if we're friends too."

"You? Me?" I can't help but feel my heart start to race. "Sure."

Ette sighs in relief. "Okay." She holds her hand out to me. "Then…we're friends?"

"Yeah." My hand meets with hers. What a strange place for us to admit it. "We got each other's backs."

For a moment it feels as though all the chill of the underground chamber is gone.


	11. Chapter 11: Pandemonium and Prosperity

Chapter 11: Pandemonium and Prosperity

«=======================================================================================»

The damp air and coldness creeps into my bones. My teeth start chattering. We need to get out of this underground chamber, fast. The water's up to my belt, and it's not getting any warmer.

Ette is leaning on my side. "What can we do?" she asks, holding on tight to me.

I don't know for sure, but I'm not going to tell her that. "Gotta figure out a way to get the water outta here."

"But how?!" Ette blares, showing her teeth.

"Thinking." My body shudders. "It's tough in this dampness."

"Tough for you?!" I hear her growling. "What about me?! I don't like it either!"

She's so selfish. "Then help me find a way to—"

"I've never even been in a cave before! Or in water underground!" Her hyperventilating in a panic unsettles me, it's coupled with distraught when she shouts at me in fury, "What do you think I can do?!"

That awful pang of guilt really gets to me. It slips through my clothes and gets under my skin worse than the frigid water. I brought her here. She's _my_ responsibility. If we don't make it out— No! Stop thinking those negative thoughts!

I try to breathe but my chest is all tight. What the fuck is happening to me? How come I'm losing it over this? What the fuck is making me feel so deranged by emotion? I glare at the obvious culprit. She's wearing a helpless expression, which tells me she's not doing it on purpose. Still, us sharing feelings is a real nuisance. I could see it leading to our doom— NO! Stop thinking like that. "We're going to make it out, Ette."

"I'm soaked thanks to you!" she moans. "Look how wet I am!"

"Yeah?" Without thinking too hard I reply snidely, "Guess I have that effect."

"You _enjoy_ drenching others?!"

I need to focus my mind on the environment and look for anything that might be out of the ordinary. To do that, I have to redirect Ette's dismal feelings somehow so they don't distract me from the mission. Being crass works just fine. "Sure do," I leer, "girls love it."

"What's that mean?!" she snaps.

"Don't worry about it."

Peering back at her, the gears in her head turn as her stare goes from confused to irritated. "Humans and their dirty talk," she spits. "You know I hate it!"

But at least it took her mind off our desperate situation for the time being. Now I have an idea of the layout. My light is only at a measly five percent battery remaining. In a place like this, being unable to see would be a death sentence so we need to move fast. "C'mon, there's no time to waste." At a quickened pace, I slush through the chilly water toward the dome shape perimeter of the cistern.

"Wh-What?" Ette coils her hands around my waist.

When we get there, the slippery rock wall greets me. I start walking around the edge of the large room, my temperature dropping all the while. "Damn. This looks all the same. Solid earth." I pound the bedrock in frustration with my fist.

"C-Cold…" Ette shivers next to me. Her feelings are getting weaker, they don't have that same sway they used to a moment ago. While it's good in the sense they don't distract me, I fear for her.

"The water level…it's not rising." As I think, I'm trying to ignore the goosebumps cropping up all over my skin. "Which…means, there must be a drain…or someway for the water to leave…something's got to control that flow—"

"Alv…I-I'm f-freezing…" She grasps me so tight, her hair gets in my face.

I lift my chin up so she doesn't block my vision, though she quickly fills that space. However, it causes me to look up and see something reflective through the murk. Tiny specks of faint pale blue light gleam from beneath what looks like a rusty latch on the wall about halfway to the ceiling. The shadows on the stone below indicate the remnants of a narrow path, now eroded, leading to it. That can only mean one thing, the walkway collapsed making the handle inaccessible.

But then I remember Ette's telekinesis. "Ette, I got an idea."

She murmurs something at my neck. It sounds like, "Too cold."

I try to shake her, but she's latched on to me. "We're gonna get outta the cold. Look!"

My light points up to the ceiling. She tilts her head, but only slightly.

"Can you reach it with your telekinesis?"

Ette concentrates. Her unsteady arm points where my flashlight is. Some rust shakes loose, but the thing won't budge.

"W-What's wrong?" I stammer from the stinging chill.

"T-Too cold…m-my body…"

What the hell is she trying to say? "Ette, this is our ticket out!"

Her grasp on me weakens as if she's drifting off. "My powers…won't work…like this." Her head droops toward her heart resting on my chest.

"Shit!" It suddenly makes sense. Her mind powers are tied to her physical body. It's the same for me, I can't think clearly, or effectively use my mental energy, when I'm half-frozen!

Once warm, her tepid core seems to be drawing in the very last bits of heat from the rest of her. Her skin's all clammy and benumbed.

"Ette, I need your help to move that switch. If you don't do it soon—" I bite my tongue. I was about to say, 'Then we'll collapse and drown.' However, I can't let her feel my fear or we'll fall into one of those damn emotional feedback wells. That won't get us out, it'll make it exponentially worse. "—Then we won't be able to save our friend, Morse."

Positive thoughts trump the negative. "I want to, Alv…" She wriggles in affirmation. "But my heart's…I can't without my hear—" Ette's voice abruptly breaks off as she collapses.

"You can't fall asleep! Stay with me! Focus your power!" I grab hold of her limp form. Even though I don't have much body heat, it might be enough to warm her core enough to use her powers. "Fight it!" I urge as her crystal slides between my chest and broken left arm. I'm in a state of frenzy knowing this is now or never, do or die, my heart is beating rapidly right against her core. If this doesn't work, nothing will.

Her eyes flutter open. I feel her arm move behind my back.

"Don't give up! Ette! We still gotta get outta here! Blast the damn switch with whatever you got!"

There's a loud groaning. Then something shifts, shaking the floor. Grasping her, the whole place starts to rumble.

"What the—!?" She couldn't have said it better.

Water suddenly rushes toward the other side of the room like a drain opening in a giant tub. I try to brace myself, but it's too forceful to resist. My feet slip off the ground.

"Alv!" She cries out as once again we slide through a channel. This time though, it's a wider passage. I try to maneuver us away from the center of the stream to no avail. After being carried through the dark passageway, I hear the splashing of water up ahead.

"Uh-oh."

Ette can sense it too, she holds me tight.

There's a brief lull after we shoot over the slope into nothingness. My stomach feels like it's going to fly out of my mouth as we drop.

"Aaah!" Ette screams.

We keep falling in the dark, terrified of what might await us below. If it's solid rock we're dead. I can't point the light in all the spinning turmoil. All I can do is brace for the inevitable impact.

The unpleasant impact results in a huge splash. Both of us go under from the drop, the water's deep enough to have broken our fall. In an exhilarated state, we surface, coughing and kicking as we try to find our way to solid ground.

I get us to the side of a rocky bank and bring us ashore. Setting Ette next to me, streams of water flow down my nose from my soaked head. She coughs and shivers violently.

"It's gonna be alright, we're out of the water." I try my best to comfort her, even though we're both drenched. Our clothes are the real problem having taken on all that dampness. Wet clothes in a cold cave, this can't possibly get any worse.

I scan the area with my light. Another wide, but thankfully dry, dark tunnel runs perpendicular to the subterranean river we just swam out of. That seems promising.

She squeezes me in her arms and tries to find my warmth.

"Phew." I tell the top of her head. "Goddamn, that was a whole lotta fun, huh? We made it—"

Just as I say that, my phone dies, leaving us in complete darkness.

"…Fuck." That part about things not getting worse, I was dead wrong.

Ette clasps my arm like a vice. Don't need to see her to tell she's frightened. Too scared to even speak. She's shaking uncontrollably. I feel her body against mine trembling.

"Ette—"

"I…I'm not afraid…not…afraid…not afraid…of the dark."

Her whimpering makes me want to ease her fears, but there's nothing I can do. It's an irrational fear I share with her. The fear of the dark, the unknown.

She starts to hyperventilate, gasping again and again. "Not…afraid…not…!"

I hold her close. Yet even as I do, she won't stop quivering.

"I…shouldn't be so afraid of the dark. Why am I…?"

"It's alright," I say, doing my best to convince her. "We'll find a way to—" My throat swallows dryly. Who the hell am I kidding? It's pitch-black. Can't even see my hand in front of my face. That same hand scrambles to my pockets, desperately trying to find something that'll help. Nothing but wet cloth greets my fingers. I begin to feel myself on the path to breaking down. I don't want to die in this abysmal gutter.

"Alv…No…Alv!" Ette breathlessly says my name in the darkness. Though she's physically close, it feels as though she's a million miles away in the void.

She won't stop shaking. It's making me feel ill. My mind is lost to a primal fear of the sea of blackness surrounding us. Didn't even get a good look at the layout. In frustration, I strike helplessly at the unseen ground with my knuckles. My ragged breathing morphs into anger. "Why'd the phone have to crap out now of all times?"

"Not…afraid…of the darkness…" She repeats her desperate mantra again and again. Like that'll change anything.

A voice in my head tells me to get up. To fight. But the despair I feel, her despair, commingled with my own, is just too much. I take sight for granted every second of my life; without it, I'm helpless.

"Not…"

"No." My voice is defiant and deliberate as I cut her off. "We're not gonna shrivel up and die here."

Ette grips tighter on my arm. "Who are you talking to?"

"I'm talking to the darkness." She must be wearing the most confused face right now. Not that I could see it. Strangely however, I can feel it.

"How do you talk to darkness?" she asks me in a whisper.

Exhaling, I profess, "It's all in my mind."

"What're you saying?" she wonders.

"Even if you're scared of the dark, you can still talk, like this." I remind her of her gift of speech. "Do it, try again and again until you can talk to the darkness that's in your head, tell it that it can't have you."

"Darkness…in your head? Did you bump your head?"

She doesn't understand yet. The strength of my will is the only fiber of sanity left in this dreaded abyss. "I can't give up, because I haven't found Morse."

"But how are you going to—?" she starts to ask.

"—By not giving up!" I lift myself from the dirt. My body no longer feels disoriented. Sore? Yes. Weakened? Absolutely. But lost? No. I have a clarity of spirit that's guiding me forward with each otherwise uncertain step. "We're gonna find that little candle and laugh about this whole thing one day! That's…the future I choose."

She's speechless. Must think I've gone mad. Perhaps I have.

I remove the scout rifle slung on my back. Using it like a blind man's staff, I prod at the earth in front of me. Ette silently holds my waist from behind. The two of us move at a measured pace through the blackness.

Eventually we hit a wall. Turn. Move further along. Another wall. Turn. Again, march onward.

The more time spent in the dark, the more heightened my other senses become. The different sounds of my barrel tapping on the ground, the way the wooden stock gives gently when the muzzle presses sand instead of the hard stone near an approaching wall. It feels like being a detective.

I can almost taste the growing saltiness in the air. A pungent herbal smell augments my senses too. We must be getting somewhere. Don't know where, but it can't be the same place as before. The air is less cold and dank. The once prominent sound of flowing water grows distant as we proceed through the labyrinth.

When we reach another obstacle, I take another turn. Suddenly, however, Ette tugs on my waist. What is it? She's been so good about letting me concentrate. I turn to her. And faintly, very faintly, there's a light reflecting off the edge of her heart.

How is that possible? Is she generating it? No. She moves slightly and so does the small light. It's like an extremely faint mirror, or telescope even. A single star in a sea of gloom is reflecting off her core.

I turn with renewed confidence. My eyes focus on a single point in the distance. A speck, no, a star of refuge. I'm almost afraid it'll slip away if we don't get to it. That glimmer of hope can't be lost!

Ette is eager too, she squeezes tightly on my arm as we head toward it.

Finally, it's close enough to see. It's low to the ground, faintly blue. I feel a rush of exhilaration. My pace quickens. "Morse?!"

Ette stops me. "That light—it isn't flickering."

"You're right." Again. Just like with the ghost without a shadow. She's so observant of little details it puts me to shame. Though my heart sinks, I'm thankful she stopped me from foolishly charging.

It's a boot-high, silver rock, covered in blue light emanating from the ore-like deposits on its body. Its snowy collar sits beneath its stout head, which has rabbit ears and two beady gem eyes separated by a jagged horn.

"What is it?" Ette asks.

"Carbink," I answer. "They're tiny rock fairies that live in mines."

"O-Oh…" She winces. "A fairy…like Sera."

Rather not think about her. Especially now. Yet, there's something really strange about how Ette said that. Then again, she might not be thinking clearly.

I stoop down near the monster, who eyes me curiously. "Hey, 'lil fella," I say as softly and innocuously as possible.

It shudders and bows its head. There's a faint crimson glow around it, contrasting with the color of the creature. My eyes go wide realizing it must be pissed.

"Get back!" I throw my arm against Ette and knock her and myself to the ground, just as the Carbink fires a laser of blinding light from the top of its horn. The searing bolt lights up the cavern, causing part of the ceiling to collapse. Rolling to the side, we dodge a boulder the size of a desk smash right next to us. "Motherf—!"

Carbink scampers away, proceeding down the path we haven't yet seen. It might be a piece of shit for trying to kill us, but it's not getting away. "Quick, after it!"

We chase the monster through the tunnel, twisting and turning as it tries to escape pursuit. Eventually the critter makes a sharp turn, leading to a thin, illuminated passageway in the wall.

"Must've slipped inside. Look! There's more light coming from the other side!"

The gap in the wall is tight. I barely manage to fit my body in by walking straight. I might have to turn and walk like a crab sideways. However, once I'm inside the gap in the rock something stops me from shimmying the rest of the way through.

Ette.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim as she pushes me to the side, unwittingly pinning me in the narrow interior.

"You can't leave me in the dark!" Ette says indignantly as she squeezes in. She's pressing all up against me in her state of pertinacity and, while I can sense her determination to follow the light, now I can't move.

"I wasn't gonna leave you in the…" Shit. Thanks to her I'm stuck. "This way is too narrow for two people to both go at once."

She won't budge. Her stubborn voice says right next to my lips, "I'm not staying in the dark alone."

"Then go right ahead, princess," I impel.

Wriggling, she tries to get past me toward the faint light on the other side of the channel, but it obviously doesn't work.

"See the problem?"

"You're in my way!" She pushes me but there's nowhere for me to go.

"Yeah, and you're in my way," I counter.

She presses herself against me. "You…rgh!" Her deep sigh against my neck under my ear sends a spark down my spine.

"Just back up the way you came from," I tell her. I try to make a little space between us, but then she has to try and get in front of me which forces us closer together. "No, not like that."

"I'm not going back in the dark alone!" Ette says with such a frenzied voice that it sounds like she's on the verge of breaking down.

She's afraid of the dark. No, terrorized by it. I feel that, but don't know why. When she's this nearby, it might as well be my fear too. I try to reason with her, "Yeah, but if you don't we're gonna be stuck. Then what?"

Seems that talked some sense into her. She tries to walk in reverse but is sandwiched by the rocks. Her startled gasp says it all. "Uh-oh." That sudden fear of being trapped she's experiencing, I get a strong sense of that, along with an uncomfortable shortness of breath.

"Great." How are we going to get out of this? "This is just peachy."

I don't mention how her body being tightly pressed against me is making this problem even worse. Every little wriggle she makes rubs against me, especially her chest, and it's making me dizzy.

I feel her rough, hot breaths on my neck too. All my senses are heightened, from the darkness and my proximity to her. The air is getting thin between the two of us. That, or we're sharing the same air repeatedly.

As fascinating as this is, the situation is getting critical for us both. Not only is my heart racing, but my blood is traveling to lower places when it'd be better used for my brain.

"Ette, try to tilt your body on an angle," I whisper, attempting to summon the fleeting voice of reason.

"Like this?" Her heart bumps the center of my chest.

"Yeah. Bit more."

Then her whole chest presses against mine.

"Al…most." I nearly choke on the word from the sensation.

She keeps moving an inch or two at a time, exhaling heavily in my face as she adjusts herself. Once she gets to the last bit of room that lets her by me, she lets out a forceful moan which startles my senses.

Ette finally slips by. I snatch onto one of her braids dangling behind her and follow her through the rest of the way.

When she enters the grand room the passageway leads to, she gasps in rapture. "It's…so beautiful…!"

What's on the other side takes my breath away too.

A gorgeous spiral of gems lines the walls. All of them sparkle brightly, filling the lofty room with color and magic. There's a pool in the center, aglow from the dazzling reflection. On the other side, there's a large passageway with what appears to be daylight. Still, not even the distant sun can compare to the beauty and luster of the jewels within this chamber.

"Ette! We just struck it rich!"

I smile, resting the rifle like a walking stick to take it all in with a deep breath. Just being able to see light again is a blessing. But this stuff must be worth millions. If I took mere a handful of these precious stones, I'd never have to worry about money again.

Ette hugs me in joy. "Is that…?!"

"Whoa, what?" I still haven't quite recovered from our close encounter.

"Morse!" she exclaims.

My heart skips a beat. There, on the other side of the room by the passage leading outside, I see a small candle, camouflaged by the glimmering rocks around him. I rush toward him with Ette close behind.

Upon our approach, he tries to get up and put on a tough mien. I can see right away he's been injured badly. Parts of his wax are missing, and beak marks cover his body. Those damn Vullaby!

I go to pick him up and he lets out a squeak. "Morse…" I sniffle, trying not to let my emotions show, but it's damn near impossible. "I'm so glad you're alright!"

Ette kneels down as well. She scrambles into the pouch on her hip and removes a roll of bandages. Her hands work incredibly quickly to patch his wounds. "You shouldn't've tried to be a hero back there," she says, however, soon she also breaks down, her joyful feelings overriding her sternness, "but I knew you'd come through. You had Alv all worried for nothing!"

He gives a giggle, popping wax from his mouth as she runs her fingers around the injuries.

"Hah, Ette was worried sick too," I tell him, giving her a nudge with my elbow. "She insisted she'd come save you. Like, she was almost on death's door herself."

"Th-That's not true!" she growls.

The two of us laugh at her embarrassed reaction.

Her cheeks continue to glow rosily. "Okay, maybe it's a little true."

It finally feels like I can breathe again. Knowing Morse is okay, I couldn't have asked for a happier outcome. All the pain and struggling, it was all worth it to see his cheeky smirk once again. I realize for the first time in a long while I'm smiling, genuinely. Not because of anything else but these two companions of mine. All the treasures within this room glisten in wonderful, breathtaking ways, yet none compare to having my friends next to me.


	12. Chapter 12: Illumination or Lamentation

Chapter 12: Illumination or Lamentation

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Reuniting with Morse, it's all too unreal. My finger goes to pinch my cheek. Yup, I'm definitely alive. And this is all real. Somehow.

Ette lifts a quizzical brow. "What's wrong with your face?"

Can't help but smile. "Simple. I'm just happy we're all alright."

Then it dawns on me that we're not just alright—we're great. If this is what the community was mining for before they disappeared, then we hit the motherlode. The prospect of being not only rich but filthy rich makes my breaths quicken.

Here we are in a room full of treasure! My head turns to look at the dazzling sparkles. They line the spiraling chamber, their endless luster flowing in constellations of pure beauty.

I take it all in, overcome by this incomprehensible glow of yellow sunshine deep underground. Is this Ette's happiness? My own? Both of ours? I can't tell, but the elation is physically overwhelming my senses with radiance.

"Ette, about that hospital bill—" I start to say with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

She looks at me expectantly. Her ears wiggle cutely in anticipation.

I should stand up for this important announcement. It's been the one thing that's eaten at me since we left Cortex. "Screw that stupid rock Bisharp took!" I proclaim, fist in the air. "We're not gonna need it!"

Morse cheers at my side. His waxy arms scoop up some of the sparkling jewels.

Ette exhales in relief. She looks up, mincing her hands together. "Oh! You're going to use the gems to pay your bill?"

"You're thinking far too small, Ette!" I laugh. "Not only pay off my bill, oh no, I'm gonna buy the whole hospital! Anyone you ever treat, I'll pay for it! It'll be a righteous charity!"

Her eyes go wide.

"Hah. You better believe it." I chuckle gleefully, unable to contain this feeling of excitement. "This mine, it's gotta be worth millions—no, BILLIONS!"

It makes my heart soar to think we share this. Only difference is I'm not completely speechless like her. It's like winning the lotto! I'm loving every second of it.

"And to think—" I smirk "—the asshats living here, it was right under their noses this whole time!"

Her expression suddenly shifts as though she just got some bad news.

Seriously? What on earth does she have to be upset about during this life-changing moment? Did she really want to continue our quest that much? "We're the luckiest people on the planet right now, c'mon, quit being grouchy! You can do whatever you want, hell, the whole world is yours!"

Ette's wearing this blank look on her face. Did the amazing news break her? Perhaps all the emotions are too much for her and her brain short-circuited.

"Ette? Hey! Snap outta it already, you're being a killjoy!"

That's when I feel a hot draft against my back. Morse is in front of me however. Huh, he's paralyzed too.

Wait. They can't be looking at me, I'm not twelve feet tall. And now the earth is starting to rumble. I turn.

The sight that greets me fills my bones with terror. There, on the other side of the subterranean pool, is a blue behemoth – a Garchomp who's height almost reaches the ceiling. Two smaller raptors, a pair of Gabite – only a third the big kahuna's size, but still tall enough to strike fear with their vicious claws and fangs – flank both sides of the pond.

"Oh…shit."

A revelation strikes my panicked mind: I must be making the exact same expression of raw horror as the plate on the ghost we found. Can only mean one thing. This is their den, a money pit, and – like any other sorry treasure hunters that preceded us – we're as good as dead. Those damn feelings prevented me from seeing the obvious danger!

The megalith-sized monster stretches its hammerhead high, revealing its giant red underbelly. Then it opens a fang-filled mouth that would make a Sharpedo jealous. From its bladed maw comes forth an earthshaking roar. Gems, rocks, and even a few camouflaged Carbink fall from the walls and ceiling all around us as the ground splits from the incredible power this beast possesses.

My muscle memory kicks into action, saving me from a glacial bringing of the rifle to bear from the terror. Trouble is, where do I even aim? The two goons dart forward. Hell, I won't go down without putting up a fight. With sights on the largest piece of real estate I don't want near me, I fire.

The crack of my shot fills the air. My bolt cycles and I go for another at the big mama's torso. The two smaller raptors briefly turn to look, buying us a second of time.

Garchomp growls deeply, threateningly. It's obvious the ballistic armor of its tough scales is impeding the bullets. Lifting its head high, it segues into a deafening roar, compelling its minions to continue their charge.

There must be something not protected by the damn body armor! "C'mon you piece of shit!"

But before I can manage to hit a vital, the rushing left raptor leaps at us, springing high into the air. Its spear claws point down as it hurtles at me with its full weight. Just as it is about to impale, a psychic force shoves it back far enough where I'm able to dodge. However, this puts me closer to the other Gabite, who is going for a headlong charge with Iron Head.

Morse blasts a jet of flame at the charging beast's shining silver cranium, engulfing it mid-strike in a tornado of Fire Spin. Meanwhile, I recover from my roll and fire at the other raptor Ette knocked into the ground. The bullet smashes the monster's right horn clean off, followed by an arc of draconic blood. With the protuberance destroyed it starts going insane, howling in pure rage, thrashing into boulders like they weren't even there.

This really pisses off the heavyweight. Garchomp dashes with unprecedented quickness for such a large monster, using incredible momentum to jump over the water. Both arms extend, its body tucks in like a jet plane as it sails through the air at wicked speed. No matter how much lead I send at the giant target, the infantry-grade bullets simply won't penetrate its thick hide!

"Flak it!" I yell to Morse.

Like one of those Great War towers, Morse relentlessly cannon-fires Smokescreen projectiles in front of the living plane. Those shells explode in midair with loud concussive bursts. Thick black smoke proliferates out from the fire bombs, disrupting the beast's trajectory.

Garchomp crashes down in between its kin, about thirty feet from me, shaking the whole room as it pounds the earth in annoyance. Its stomping tantrum kicks up a huge cloud of dust and dirt.

Ette sweeps to my side and chaotically flings gem-encrusted rocks at the grounded dragon using her psychic powers. However, the debris she tosses bounce off the raging creature with dull thuds.

The beast uncoils dramatically, summoning a gale which sweeps away the lingering smog. It uses the dust it shook up to create a dense sandstorm. The swirling sand is enough to send Morse's blinding attacks and Ette's thrown bricks off course. Amid the howling mayhem, my aim momentarily loses the beast's relatively small head as well. That's to say little for the rest of it though as it starts approaching at a measured pace to retain the veil of sand protecting it. Even partially concealed, its body is utterly gargantuan up close.

I aim at Garchomp's center of mass and fire non-stop. Hot brass continuously ejects from the breech, spewing steaming spent casings among the gem filled floor. My projectiles manage to strike its torso, riddling its scales with surface wounds. Yet every explosion, every blast is met with the same insurmountable resistance. Can't breach the natural armor!

Seeing how ineffective the rifle is against this adversary, I'm overcome with dread. Ette's stark fear as she realizes her attacks and Morse's won't break through the sand blockade adds to my own, making it infinitely more terrifying from our compounding emotions. My bullets are the only thing with enough velocity to penetrate the dust cloud, but not even they can pierce the hardened scales of the creature.

I can't give up! I clutch my old rifle for dear life, pulling the trigger again and again no matter how ugly this is looking. I rally with a roar, "Just like in the days of the Great War!"

However, the giant keeps moving forward, undeterred. Its black eyes are close enough for me to see their reflective centers, aglow with draconic might.

As it approaches, I see my target: a bright yellow star between its vicious eyes. My lungs seize air as the chevron sight through the glass hugs the exposed mark.

Just as I pull the trigger, one of the raptors pounces from the side. It snaps on my barrel with a Crunch, sending the bullet off course.

From the corner of my eye I spot the other raptor jump at Ette.

"Look out!" I shout while struggling to free myself from the one biting down on my gun.

In the nick of time, her transparent lattice shield appears again. While it breaks the raptor off from impaling her, it isn't strong against the violent physical slashes and blows which cause it to crack apart like ice. Morse goes to help her with sparks of flame igniting into a fiery tornado.

Meanwhile, I have my own problem trying to skewer me. Twisting down hard while Gabite still has the barrel in its mouth, I manage to force the muzzle on the thing's thrashing body for a point-blank shot. It jolts wildly, causing the bullet to ricochet off the ground.

There's a deafening silence, louder than any round fired, as the bolt locks open. Fuck! Of all the times to run outta ammo!

Gabite continues to wrestle with my rifle in its mouth, glaring at me with intense eyes. Its razor claws go to impale me. When it can't puncture with limited reach, it goes to lunge and swipe instead. Thinking quickly, I swoop the gun back and forth to keep it from landing the blows.

War-time ergonomics. Far from modern-day standards, naturally. However, it makes enough of a difference to save my ass. "A…little help here!" I gasp between assaults.

Morse and Ette, having fended off their attacker, combine their powers to strike the beast. First Morse unleashes a stream of fireballs. Ette's telekinesis bats at the orbs, sending them at impressive velocity at the grappling monster's chest.

As Gabite's chest alights from burning bursts, it releases its hold on the gun. For good measure I whack it on the head protrusion before slinging the scout over my shoulder. By now, the Garchomp is nearly upon us.

"RUN!"

We start to flee. Garchomp howls, soaring into the air, screeching directly over our heads and slamming into the wall in front of us before scurrying down on all fours, using its body to block our exit. There's no way in hell we can outrun it.

"That monster's—" I gasp "—far too quick!" It can only mean one thing as the skittering sounds of the injured raptors come to behind us. It's been toying with us this whole time, training its young how to hunt. The moment we stand a chance of getting away from the Gabite is when it'll lay down the execution.

"What do we do!?" screams Ette in our shared panic.

God, it's fucking awful to deal with her fright as if it's my own. Maybe it's partially mine, but I can't tell where the divide is. All I know is connected fear is exponentially worse than normal fear. I can't even think because of it, only feel our dread multiplying uncontrollably between us.

It pisses me off.

Suddenly I snap out of the emotional feedback loop as a crimson spark flashes through my mind. It cuts straight through the darkness of our mutual anxiety like a ray of focused daylight. I remember feeling angry at the little rock fairy bastard from before, and how it possessed a surprisingly strong energy attack.

"Forget about the landsharks! Focus on the Carbink!" They're strewn on the sparkling floor, many knocked loose from the walls during Garchomp's quake. I coach Morse, "Hit as many as you can with Flame Burst!"

I see Ette's eyes go wide in realization, she knows exactly what I'm thinking. "I'll help too!" She waves her arm like a sorceress, and a cyan upsurge of force follows her motion. It's no tidal wave, but it does corral the outlying Carbink, turning a group of five into a pile of at least ten.

"Special delivery, shitheads!" I shout as Morse lets loose a bundle of flame. Once it's over the group of Carbink, it explodes with spreading heat and sparks.

Garchomp makes an obtuse groan in puzzlement at the bright firecracker. Even the Gabite are awestruck.

"That's right, you keep lookin', Sharky," I say under my breath. The corner of my lip rises into a satisfied half-smirk as a domino effect begins to take place.

The horns of the monsters radiate redness from being struck. They're about to detonate. All of them. At once. It's going to be huge. We'll have a damn near perfect vantage of it too from this far back.

I nudge Ette with my elbow. "Ready to see some fireworks? Like a grand finale on a summer night, gonna be quite a show!"

"We're going…to see fireworks together?" she wonders in tender disbelief.

"Yea—" Hold on! My breath freezes seconds before the main event. There's one major problem: Carbink aren't rockets, they've got fucking laser beams! It doesn't matter how far away we are from the damn things!

She confusedly turns to meet my face.

I quickly press myself against her and urge, "On second thought, could sure use your shield!"

Ette's expectations shattered, she exclaims, "What the hell, Alv?!"

"Better do it soon." I get near so she has less area to cover and Morse leaps onto our touching shoulders. "Or we're toast!"

Those damn Carbink don't give us any more time on their fuses. One launches a brilliant beam out of its horn. Then three more lasers light up the chamber. The searing beams bedazzle us as they shoot through the gem filled room, gyrating in countless directions. By the time they all do their reflex, it's a freaking underground psychedelic lightshow.

Ette extends her palms in front of us, creating a Light Screen to reflect the chaotic barrage of beams. They continue to ricochet off walls, water, and every gem in the room. It's a blinding display of power, one that shatters pieces of the ceiling loose. Boulders come tumbling down, violently shaking the room with multiple collisions. I turn my head just in time to see one of the stupefied Gabite get outright crushed by a piece larger than a cement truck.

Garchomp is thrown down on its belly. Its wing arms reach to protect its sensitive eyes from all this color and light. It wails in agony from chunks of ceiling toppling on top of it.

Ette's barrier is holding strong against the turmoil. Every time a searing column of red death crosses over her shield, I feel a sharp wince and tightness in my chest just as the ray deflects and scatters into incandescent bursts of countless colors. How the hell is she able to keep this going?

Morse ambles from his spot on our shoulders during a lull in the light attacks and squeaks in a way sounding like, "Let's go!" Pointing toward the collapsing exit, he scurries in a zigzag as increasingly large pieces of the jeweled ceiling cave in.

Ette's at her limit, I can feel the heat of her core radiating against my chest like a space heater. She needs a break, I'm exhausted just looking at her. Her shield won't be able to protect us from falling rocks weighing tons. It's only getting worse. Now's the time for us to move. I snatch her by the side. However, Ette collapses in my arm as her transparent ward fades into us.

We're exposed, the whole cavern is crumbling to ruin, we gotta move! "Keep going!" I tell her earnestly. "We're almost outta this!"

Sharp determination visible in her eyes, she nods her head.

I support her at my side as we flee. The lasers are gone, but the hollow mountain is falling in on itself. Each step we barely avoid getting crushed or swallowed by a fissure.

With a final push, we make it into the tunnel beyond Garchomp, but the instability is here too. The pieces of earth continue to fall all around, plus the floor is getting torn to pieces.

Don't stop. Don't look back. Just keep following Morse trailblazing the way on out of here.

After charging uphill, we turn a corner and a familiar sight greets me. We're almost free! Together, we race for the gap leading to daylight. The shaking of the earth subsides as we reach the exit.

Morse suddenly freezes and growls.

Four stout figures stand in our way, blocking our egress. They're not very tall. Their round silhouettes look familiar. No way! It's those damn Vullaby! They're the ones who hurt my buddy.

They caw noisily, forming a perimeter in the slivers of afternoon sunshine. Amid their bedlam, they manage to surround our vanguard, Morse. His duress is clear as day to me, they hurt him and wouldn't hesitate to do it again!

"Don't you fucking dare!" My anger gets the better of me, and I want nothing more than to kick their rotten egg bodies out of our way. Crack them like breakfast omelets if they try to injure my friend. I'll splatter them against the stone wall if I have to!

From my side, Ette gasps and holds me back.

I glare at her in wrath. "They hurt Morse!"

"Something isn't right," she says worriedly. "Can't you feel it?"

"No!" I'm too hotblooded to feel anything but annoyance. Ette's arms around me feel like a nuisance. "Let go of me!"

"Don't be an idiot!" she berates.

"We're almost out and these jackasses think they can mess with us?! After fucking with Morse?!"

"Alv!" She shakes me.

"What?!" My sight is so full of red it's starting to physically hurt my eyes.

"There's too many of them!" she says.

"We can take 'em!" My field of vision shudders even though the quakes have long since stopped. Is it vertigo, stress, or something worse?

"No! That's not what I mean! One shouldn't be there!" she exclaims.

My eyes widen. Wait. Wait one damn minute. "You saw four before, we saw one get consumed by the maskless ghost and turned into an abomination. Which means—!"

"—Look at the shadows!" she implores.

Same observation from before. Pressure welling behind my eyes vanishes, as does the swirling crimson clouds above the scarlet sands. Suddenly, it becomes clear as day. There are only three shadows.

"Sonofabitch!" Charging at those feathery fatsos would've been a huge mistake. What the hell came over me? I can't believe I almost got lured into a trap in blind rage. It's the second time strong feelings prevented me from thinking clearly. "I've had it with your fucking tricks!"

Realizing the jig is up, the Vullaby carcass without a normal shadow splits open with a nauseating crack, deforming into a twisted aberration of botched together pieces of flesh and feathers. The faceless ghost ties the parts of it together loosely with pulsating tendrils of black shadow, pumping vile tar through the mutilated avian's corpse. Chunks of the blight drip on the ground all around it, steaming like acid as ghastly wails rise up from the earth itself.

Holy fucking shit, this is bad! But as bad as it is, it somehow gets even worse.

Revealing its swirling, bloody eye from the inside of the mangled, lopsided beak, the hideous being goes into attack mode. Its inky, phantasmal arms coiling throughout the dead bird's remains pull on the other living Vullaby near it.

Loudly they shriek, flapping their short, stubby wings to no avail. Their talons miserably grapple at the sand, but it does them no good. They're drawn toward the atrocity. The Vullaby are squirming to get away from the specter's hold. Their shells begin to crack from unimaginable pressure as they become unwilling hosts to the otherworldly entity draining away their life energy.

To top it all off, their fear is palpable. Not in the sense of their wailing screams assaulting my ears. No, this is different. I can see the rotting, petulant green cloud of their terror as the dark shadow envelops them. It makes me sick to my stomach to witness. I can't take my eyes off the abject horror. It's as though their visceral terrors have turned my legs to stone.

Paralyzed by this sudden spell coming over me, I need to think of a plan. Morse is still hurt from before. Ette is spent.

"C'mon, no fear." I steel myself to face it. "Fear's what these things exist for."

Ette's speechless, her mind in the same place as my own.

"Fear's a state of mind," I say for both our sakes while witnessing the grisly scene unfold before us. "Gotta cut it off at the source, stop it from spreading, or you'll eat that too."

The Vullaby consumed by the black maelstrom become part of the nightmare, sucked into the void centered on the phantom. Their individually broken eggshells, fused hastily together by globs of bubbling black blight, form a new face replacing where its human looking mask once used to be.

As its mutilated glare meets my own, it's as though my friends and I are staring down the devil himself. It levitates with an abundance of new spiritual energy I have not seen.

"We're going to lay you to rest—by defeating you!" My determination, or Ette's, maybe both of ours, grants me clarity. Clarity is what we need to get past its amplified power. "Morse, Clear Smog!"

White smoke rises from the top of his crown, and the searing wind of his flame carries it toward the vortex of destruction.

The foggy air collapses inward on the malevolent being. Absorbing the smog, it sinks down, anchored to the perverse graves of those it just destroyed. Engorging on the material, it becomes encumbered.

"Use Acid to break down its defenses!"

Mores launches a purple orb at the apparition's eggshell skull. It sizzles on contact, corroding through the warped vestiges of feathers, eggshells, and talons. The monstrosity's face becomes horribly burned and disfigured.

With its protective shell of deceased monsters breaking apart, the ghost wails and a murky Ominous Wind blows forth from its expanding red eye. The bone chilling cold comes from another world, through a widening portal of its eye.

Morse is knocked over, but he's low enough to the ground to not take the full force. The whole blast hits me as I use my body to shield Ette from it. I start shaking so much, I might fall to my knees if she lets go of me. "Dammit! Don't give up!"

Her golden eyes glimmer, reflecting the phantasmal miasma. Through winded breaths she clutches one hand to her heart. "We need to work together to take it out!"

But how? The ghost has grown alarmingly in size, its shadowy form now takes up the entire exit, cordoning off the sun. The half-corroded mangled corpses beneath it rattle from pulses of frigid energy coming from that swirling red eye, a gateway to a world of death.

"The eye!" I exclaim. It continues to grow, filling the darkening chamber with ethereal crimson light. Being bathed in the light causes something to sparkle like a gem from the corner of my eye. It can't be Ette's heart, she's on my other side. No, it's a slab of glass on the floor from one of the round windows that got knocked out during the quake. It's been warped, much like a bowl. "Morse! Give this everything you can—" I hoist the round crystal up by the rim, it's not as heavy as it looks "—I know you're strong enough! Astonish with all ya got!"

The thought crosses my mind he might not trust me, the attack I coached him to use isn't the strongest. Nevertheless, he goes for the charge. He's quick, skating past spires of darkness erupting from deep pits of shadow in the floor. The dark stalagmites with glowing purple veins split off into spines, branching like trees growing out of control, stabbing everything and everywhere as more rise from the abyss, forming a profane forest to surround the atrocity.

"Just a little more…!" I follow him with Ette at my side. We run toward the exit, building up momentum, jumping over the hurdles of death. "Push it back!"

To close the final distance, Morse springs on the side of one of the spikes, using its force to propel him into the air. With a loud crash, he smashes into the other monster. Their spectral forms connecting sends the shadow beast reeling backward. It loses grip on the tallowed corpses supporting it, tumbling partially outside the cave, unable to counter.

"NOW!" Twisting my entire body mid-stride for the maximum amount of strength my muscles will bestow, I throw the glass like an oversized discus. It sails through the air, flying out the gap in the wall.

Morse looks up as the glass soars overhead, and so does the aberration.

"Right there, Ette, hold it in place!"

Stretching out her palm to use her telekinesis, the spinning disc becomes locked in place outside the entrance. A beam of sunlight shoots through the center, magnified by the lens. The ray wobbles, setting desert brush near the entrance on fire as Ette tries to control it by tilting it.

That's when I unveil the final part of the plan, "Alright, Morse, amp that beam to the max! Sunny Day!"

A bright, hazy orange sphere expands from the tip of his flame, engulfing everything in a ten-foot radius in a scorching atmosphere. The second it reaches the makeshift magnifier, that small fire-starting ray transforms into a roaring Solar Beam.

It strikes upon the ghost with such ferocity, bits of its shadow are obliterated in the radiance. In a final twirl of her wrist, Ette guides the laser up to the ghost's swirling red eye.

A terrible, wailing howl strikes at my soul. Its discordant bellows fill the scorching air as the monster doused in potent sunlight explodes into countless pieces. Finally, the beam sears directly through the eye, melting the sand beneath it into a puddle of liquid glass.

Collapsing, I gasp for air. Ette similarly falls next to me. Morse leaps toward us just as the glass magnifier held aloft by Ette's telekinesis suddenly drops. A harrowing shatter echoes through the empty room as it fractures into thousands of shards upon the truly deceased.

Huddled in the silent chamber, Morse's faint light warms my face. Ette clasps my shoulder then her heart touches my chest when she hugs me. Reciprocating, I place my arm around her.

"It's gone—"

Ette's fingers tremble against my back. "What was that?"

"Yamask, with such a horrible power…" Where have I seen that before? Surely not recently. It feels vaguely and unsettlingly familiar, however. I force myself to stand, then lift Ette up as well. "C'mon. It's time we leave this cursed place behind—for good."


	13. Chapter 13: Refuge for the Heart

Chapter 13: Refuge for the Heart

«=======================================================================================»

The dusty trail back to the truck is more arduous than I remember. The afternoon sun has begun to sink to the lower half of the crisp blue sky. Ahead, vast badlands of sand and mesas colored in scarlet stretch out to the limit of my sight.

We're quiet on the trek. Not even Ette says a word. After the grueling challenges of today, coupled with the adventures in the Meteor Forest, I'm ready to rest these weary bones.

When the truck comes into view, I pause.

"Something wrong?" Ette asks in a raspy voice.

I shake my head. "No, but we ought to be careful. Did leave our ride here almost all day. Never know who—or what—might've crawled by for a visit."

Morse grumbles, remembering the monsters that ambushed us and the whole reason we got in trouble in the first place.

"She's been here almost all day. Luckily that arch of rocks kept her in the shade, or we'd be broiling on those seats."

"Why do you do that?" asks Ette.

"Huh?" I look over at her. "Do what?"

Her eyes blink inquisitively. "Call the truck 'she' and 'her', is this human-made machine a female?"

She might be wearing a skirt and talking like a girl, but when she drops one of those weird-ass lines, I'm reminded how it might be strange especially for another species. "I unno, it's a guy thing. Didn't Doctor Reeves ever call things he liked or made him proud effeminate pronouns?"

"Only me!" she chirps, happily entwining her fingers together above her heart.

"Hah!" I snort. "Well then, why'd you leave?"

Her tone turns flustered. "I'm, hm, on a journey to help my patient reach a speedy recovery."

"Bullshit. If you wanted me to recover then you'd tell me to stay in bed."

She shakes her head adamantly. "No! Physical exercise is part of recovering. An important part."

"Guess you're right, but enough about me." I hop into the truck after giving her a spot-check. Ette follows in on the other side, and Morse props himself on the dash once more. "Why are you, Ette, so interested in going on this adventure?"

"Well…I…" Ette freezes up, it's almost like all the stuff I said to her in the cave didn't mean anything to her. Her posture, stiff with anxiety, hardly subsides as she segues into an aloof, "Why do you care?"

"Cuz, I wanna know more about you," I say. "Like, really, traveling with someone who's able to talk, communicate, think, and not know them is maddening."

"You're already plenty mad," she tries to joke.

"Maybe I am." I speak loosely. "Still, managed to save our buddy with you. So that makes you at least, hmm, 50% of the total crazy since you're my assistant."

"I'm not crazy!" Her cheeks flush. "O-Or your assistant! I was really worried for Morse!"

Morse grins and wobbles to-and-fro on his dashboard perch.

"I'unno, 'I was so worried for Morse I had to save him' sure sounds like something I'd say." Wryly smiling, I start the engine. "But, whatever you say, princess—"

"—Wait!" Ette places her hand on the back of my palm.

"What?" The sudden sensation of her skin on mine sends an electrical feeling racing up my arm. Swallowing hard, I try to conceal my shock. "Don't tell me you left something behind."

"No. I want to answer your question."

"Oh." My brow lifts. "Go on, shoot."

"Actually…I'm still trying to answer it." At first, it sounds like a cop-out, but then Ette proclaims, "That's the thing. There's still more to it, I know it. But what I know right now is I've lived my whole life thinking my little town was the world." Her gaze travels from her hand up to meet my eyes. "And now I realize my understanding of things isn't what I thought it was, it's making me question a lot actually."

There's an awkward pause. Only the steady, rumbling sounds of the engine break the silence. I resist the urge to say something, opting to let her finish.

"That's why I felt different than before. Because when you got out of your bed, summoned that strength within, and told me you were in trouble—I can read hearts, Alv—you weren't lying."

My palm gets sweaty on the opposite side of where her hand is. Good thing she can't feel that. "Ette, that's…a fine goal."

"But what about you?" She leans in slightly. When she does, I'm more embarrassed. It's just like before when we were close, real close, in the cave together. "What's this all got to do with that stone you're—we're—looking for?"

For better or worse, my stomach comes to the rescue and growls loudly. It forces me to smirk as she jumps in response to the obtrusive sound. "Don't worry, I'll tell you over dinner. Promise."

"Dinner?" Her other hand holds her own stomach. "Oh. Oh, my. I'm hungry too."

Morse nods as well. His flame flickers with a hazy pulse.

"We've all earned a warm meal." Peering through the rearview at the foreboding mesa, I rationalize, "But we shouldn't stay here. Not with those dangerous monsters lurking right under our feet. On the way here, I saw an oasis—some water'd be nice to clean off and cook. We'll double back on our way back to the road and make camp there before sunset."

Since I'm driving, that's the plan. Can't see why they'd disagree, everyone's got to eat and rest. Still, the oasis could be occupied by monsters that might not be so inviting. My hand invites fresh ammunition into the rifle. Notice the fore-end is in bad shape as I feed it, thanks to Gabite's chomping. The barrel's fine, glad to see the old army spec passes the Crunch test, but I make a mental note the stock needs fixing when I get time. As for the scope, it's all but useless, the abuse in the cave cracked the optic's lens. I pry it off, consigning myself to irons for now.

We drive for a good while through endless sands and the occasional defiant isle of scarlet stone. The familiar desolation returns. But before we make it back to the main road, I see the one welcome thing in the arid badlands. Water.

"Thank God." I wheeze. "Thought for sure we passed it ten dunes ago."

"Ooh…" Ette wipes the side of her mouth. "I'm so thirsty…"

"Can't go drinking it. Might look refreshing but we ought to boil it first to kill any microbes."

She crosses her arms. "I know that! I'm a nurse, remember!" she says defensively.

"Yeah, _my_ nurse."

"What's that gotta do with anything?!" she sasses off.

"Glad you're feeling better, Ette." I share a laugh with Morse. It's good to see she's back to being herself.

"Rgh!" Leaning back in the passenger seat, she sighs upwards, blowing on her large bangs. "I'll feel more myself once I clean off."

True, I could use a wash as well. And something to eat.

The oasis is large and oblong in shape. A wide shore of sand surrounds it beyond a grove of citrus trees and palms on the gradual slope leading down to the tranquil water. There's a rich blue color which from our elevated vantage on the hill seems to stream into a ruddy section near eroded rocky outcrops. Mesas and canyons color the distant horizon in a grandeur of earthen hues. It's quite peaceful, but I know better than to let my guard down.

I get out of the truck and scan the area for threats. When nothing catches my eyes or ears, I gesture to my friends then start to make my way to the water's edge. The water is not stagnant, an underground spring appears to be pushing the pristine blue along, so that's a good sign. However, the red color could be rust, rendering it undrinkable.

Upon arriving on the shore, I sniff. Thankfully there's no ferrous scent. The red color is from sand circulating, the clear water is fresh as can be.

Out of nowhere something soft bumps into me from behind. "What're you smelling?"

"Whagh!" Startled by Ette's face so close to mine, I fall forward into the water, but not before grabbing her.

We tumble into the oasis with a loud splash.

"What the hell, Alv?!" Flailing at first, she stops kicking the water when we simultaneously realize it's not that deep.

"You startled me!" I say as the water drips from my hair. Wading is very pleasant due to the temperature from the sunshine.

Ette's wet clothes cling tight to her body and she glares irritably.

"Well," I shrug, "at least now we're cleaner than before."

Unexpectedly, Ette bursts into a laugh. I'm even more surprised than when she snuck up on me. It's such a pleasant lighthearted sound, like when she sings.

"Funny, huh?" I start to laugh too since it's fricking contagious. Who would have guessed Ette's laugh could sound so sweet?

"It's just," she catches her breath, "I was going to make a comment about how the smell was probably from the mountain. Then we fell, I was upset, but you had the bright idea to say would clean us off. It's like…you read my feelings by being optimistic."

Is that a genuine compliment? Coming from Ette? What's going on? Is this a dream? I'd pinch myself, just to check and be sure, but I don't want to. "I've been called many things, but optimistic isn't usually one of them."

"Well you were, and it helped me. And my feelings!" She flicks water with her hands at me in a playful manner. "Who's the real psychic?"

"You are." I splash her back wearing a smirk. "Take that!"

Bringing her hands to cover her lips, she giggles in a truly joyful manner. I pause my water attack momentarily. "Oh? Am I?" Suddenly, while my guard is down, she bats water at me by swinging her braids with psychic power.

She sprays me and continues to chuckle into her palms at my understandably shocked expression.

Her gestures coupled with her laugh make my heart melt. A genuine smile forms on my lips.

Seeming satisfied with my response, Ette rushes up to me and entangles her arms around the tops of mine. It's easy enough for her hug to keep me in place, especially since the lower half of my left arm is still in a cast. Not like I'd use my weakened hand or my other healthy arm to push her away however.

She inspects my cast. "Phew, it's not compromised." Her glossy neck and collarbone are so alluring I hardly know where else to look as she holds me.

"Right, hey, this is probably your first time anywhere like this."

"Uh-huh!" Ette rubs against me in the water, which feels especially nice. "It's so much different than the lake!"

"It's more like a beach, isn't it?" Even though she's not well traveled, I'm sure she's heard of it. "You ever see pictures of the beach?"

She sways back and forth, taking me with her a little each time. "People there don't wear very much. They put a lot of cream on their skin so the sun doesn't burn." Lowering her eyelids, she blushes. "It must feel really nice if someone rubs it on the hard to reach places."

"You sure say it like it is." Even though she could probably use her telekinesis to apply sunscreen, she's expressing her desire to be touched so openly. The idea of her wanting that makes the sound of my heart drum between my ears. "There's plenty of sunshine, sand, and swimsuits."

Her grinning lips part and she excitedly announces, "I have a swimsuit!" but then a look of fear dashes across her face.

"Uh, what's wrong?" I wonder.

"I shouldn't have told you that!"

"Pfft. Are you seriously embarrassed? I bet you look great."

"That's not it!" Ette's cheeks glow pink in the sunshine. "I'm used to taking baths without clothes on so wearing them in the water always makes me feel a little strange."

Somehow, her explanation for her embarrassment reveals an even more embarrassing secret about her. Ette likes being without clothes in the water. It can only mean one thing: Skinny-dipping. I don't dare say it. But I sure as hell think it.

"Ack!" Her face goes scarlet. "I didn't mean it like that though!"

I play the fool. "Uh, like what?"

"Oh, psh, nothing!" She squirms in place. "It's tricky to move around in, but everyone says I'm cute in it. But then, if I don't wear it, then I won't look cute. Wait! I mean, that's not what I meant!"

Cute? She is cute. However. A fully-grown adult, with her figure, is more than just cute. Far more. It's pretty much impossible to ignore with her curves and the way the sunlight dances off her glossy skin. She stretches her arms without a care in the world, even her posture is transforming into something increasingly alluring.

I keep it to myself. After all, I haven't even seen her wearing what she's talking about yet. What type of suit would she even wear? A one-piece? Or a two-piece? I wonder what she might like.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

Crap. I haven't said a word for a while, awkwardly gawking at her while my imagination runs wild. I rush to think of something to say. "Oh, uh, I'm sure it'll be fine once you're used to it."

"Hm?" Her head tilts slightly. "What're you talking about?"

"I, err, had my mind on something else for a moment."

"Huh?" She gets all up close in my personal space, leaning her weight on my shoulder. "Something else?"

Damn, I've been thinking of her this whole time. Bet she knows. Her flushed face and wet hair sends a fever throughout my whole body.

"Mm, it feels so nice, doesn't it?" With a grin she idly paddles a hand through the water with her other hugging me.

"Mhm." We're only inches apart. My gaze momentarily drifts to her steadily rising and falling chest pressing against me before snapping back up. Her irises are aglow with happiness as she catches my glance.

"You don't like the water?"

"Uh-huh." My eyes are helplessly drawn to her figure.

"Oh, that's too bad—" Ette splashes playfully "—I like it."

"Wait, no, I like it." I completely forgot what we were even talking about.

"Oh?" Her doubtful tone segues into, "It's okay if you don't. I've always liked the water, the lake where I grew up is my favorite."

No way! She's pressing even closer. How's it possible? There's no room left between us and yet, she still finds a way. How can it be? This must be more than physical. Our minds, or something, whatever makes us, _us_, continues to draw us together beyond the flushness of our warm bodies.

Her deep exhale tells me she's relaxed, in fact, I feel every bit of it.

I gotta say something, my whole body is tense. "Uhm, Ette?"

"Hm?"

"You like the water?" What a stupid thing to say, she just told me she does.

"Yeah—" Ette continues to sway in my arms as a warm breeze passes over us "—I like this too though."

Is she talking about the breeze or us holding each other? I shudder. Her way with words is astounding.

While we're fooling around together in the water, something moving over the oasis catches my eye. It shimmers like a sparkling cloud of vapor in my peripheral vision.

"Look out!" I push us down into the water as a flying monster zooms overhead.

It twirls high in the air, soaring above the palm trees in a sort of dance around the oasis, almost like a jet plane with a long neck and white body. The wings and fins of the creature are a rich red.

"What is that?" Ette wonders, sitting next to me with the water up to her chin.

"Dunno." I haven't ever seen something like this. In a flash it almost lands near Morse on the shore. However, it floats above the ground only slightly. "Morse, be careful!"

Morse doesn't seem to be afraid of it. Quite the opposite. He wobbles toward the strange creature. It looks at him with eyes the same color as Ette's between a red triangle on its head beneath long ears stretching back behind its face.

But before Morse can reach the winged being, swirling sand mixed with the pristine oasis water surrounds it. The sparkling mist creates a sort of heat mirage around it, but then the daylight settles just right on the glistening, water-covered cloud of sand, and its appearance quickly morphs with a bedazzling flash of light. Suddenly, we're looking at a totally different sight.

"Whoa…!" we say at once.

It resembles a female human, but with wings. Sort of like an angel. Long red hair flows all around her fresh white robe. She hovers in this form above the shoreline with a perplexed look on her gentle face as her mouth opens like she's trying to speak. However, only soft noises come forth.

"Amazing!" I catch my breath. "She's trying to tell us something!"

Ette's ear pokes my cheek as she shakes her head. "She can't talk!"

"What?"

"She knows how humans communicate—" Ette trembles "—but she can't speak."

Something about this really resonates with Ette, I can just tell. "So, you're saying, she can't tell us what she wants to?"

Ette feebly nods. "Imagine how scary that would be." Her braids, floating in the water seem to encircle us both, almost as if hugging us in a defensive way.

I'm taken aback. The unexpected sensation of her hair coiling us together, whether it's her telekinesis at work or not, feels unquestionably comforting. I start to consider maybe there's a lot more to Ette I don't know. Sure, she's a psychic, I've seen her move objects around with her mind. Not only that, she just splashed me by lashing her braids. But this feels different, that much is clear to me. She was startled and felt protective. Maybe she lost control over her psychic powers and it acted out through her hair?

"Are you okay?" she asks, confirming the feeling I felt from her.

However, I'm still stunned by everything.

Seeing me stare at her twintails, she snatches them and looks back up with a fraught expression. It's subtle enough, yet clearly something unique her long hair does.

"I'm fine." I look back to the flying red and white mirage monster who turned into an angel girl and suggest, "Maybe we can try to read her lips?"

"She doesn't understand how to speak words," replies Ette. "Look how her lips are moving, she's never spoken them before."

Morse stops a few feet from the angel-girl. Her lips are moving. Yet, in such an unconventional way, they would never produce words in any human language. Watching her lips tremble unknowingly, it's quite sad. This is why Ette's upset, because her gift of vocalized speech is so rare. Not even monsters that can transform have the ability.

"I didn't realize," I explain to Ette. "Can you read her mind?"

"No," she says automatically then quickly backpedals, "I…er, well, she's not like a normal person."

"Yeah, she was a flying red and white monster just a moment ago but now she's imitating an angel which is very unusual."

"An angel, huh?" Ette grips my leg tightly from underwater.

"Stories have been told about them since antiquity, they protect people, keep them safe from—" Suddenly it hits me. "Wait, could her transformation itself be her way of communicating?"

Ette gasps.

The floating girl on the shore looks at us and makes an alien sounding warble.

"Of course," I say, "it's the one thing we'd understand. Since she can't use our language, she uses symbols from stories going back to ancient times. She must be trying to communicate to us she's the angel around here. Or, put another way, she's the protector of the oasis."

"An oasis guardian!" Ette jolts.

"Yeah, something like that. She's probably not a Great Guardian because they're the types of powers who can change all of Rocaire the way she can alter her appearance." As I say this, I feel a faint recollection of sorts, as if remembering an old story from long ago. Yet something seems out of place, how or why do I feel as though this is something I know?

"Ooh, sooo, you're saying she's more like a local guardian?" wonders Ette.

The angel girl chirps at Morse, then at us, as if acknowledging we did not come here to cause trouble.

"Looks that way." I conclude, "This must be her turf, she wants us to know she's gonna protect it."

"Wow, Alv, you're unbelievable!" Ette cuddles me. "I never would've thought we'd see angels together on our adventure!"

Suddenly the girl lifts into the air. As she flies, she reverts back to the winged creature from earlier, surrounded by a cloud of sparkling sand and sunlight.

"Yeah." I smile at her as the oasis guardian flies out of sight. "Sand angels, what a crazy thought."

However, just when we thought we've seen it all, there in the water, all around us, swim a school of blue and teal fish with wide, double tails like Beautifly.

"Oh, wow! What are these?" she asks.

"Finneon, I think they're called." They dance around us, one or two jumps out of the water over Ette's braids like they're putting on a show. "Supposed to be special but can't remember why."

"I've never seen fish this close unless they were in an aquarium!" Ette exhales. "They look so pretty!"

"Yeah, they're not dangerous." I stand up out of the water and take my shirt off to let it air dry. When I reach my arm out to help Ette out of the water she blushes. Yet she still holds my hand and I lift her up. Even though I don't tug too hard, she somehow winds up right up against me from the momentum.

"You're doing well on your physical therapy," she says in a sweet voice. However, I'm convinced she pushed herself the rest of the way into me.

Her wet clothes against my bare chest, and her soft body close behind the thin veil makes my heart race. I'd like to stay like this for a while.

As I hold her, a warm wind blows from behind us. I crane my neck over her to see Morse using his Heat Wave to dry us off. I'd be the first to tell him I've been feeling plenty heated already just by being this near to Ette.

"We should have something to eat!" Ette moans, tightening her grasp on me. "I'm starving!"

"Alright, alright." There's plenty of shade from the hardy date palms. Beneath their canopy, lush citruses color the leaves of the smaller trees by the water. All in all, it's very serene and picturesque. "It's almost a paradise. With our very own angel watching out for us."

Morse gestures to the trees.

There, I see bright, yet well-camouflaged Cherubi and Hoppip, swaying lazily in the arid breeze. "Oh, I mistook those for fruit. Hope they're not dangerous." While gardening has never been my forte, out in the wilderness it strikes me just how important acquiring food that's safe to eat is. In retrospect, I should have taught myself more since my range of knowledge is dubious at best. At least those lemons and limes are certainly edible. As for the dates, I'll have to figure a way to reach them.

Ette shudders. "I've had enough dangerous plants to last a lifetime. I prefer normal, pretty flowers that don't want to eat me." She's talking about Sera's power, which was able to enchant the flowers, grow them into hideous monstrosities. It's quite frightening even now to think about.

"Well, tell you what, we need to make a campfire." I snatch a hatchet from the survival kit in the trunk and raise the sharp blade to the bright sun. "So, hacking away at a few plants is a necessity. We'll get some from outside the sanctuary so we don't bother the guardian."

"I'd rather not," grumbles Ette. "You're not going to trick me into working."

Damn, she's tenacious. "Whatever. You better not nap while we're gone."

"Then don't take too long." She sits down on the warm sand under the shade of the palms with her knees tucked up under her chin. I hear her muttering something but can't make it out.

Morse comes along with me, chipper as usual. Since Ette applied the bandages to his wounds, he's been looking much better. The two of us set out to gather dead vegetation for kindling. "Some dry wood will burn nicely. The living stuff here's got too much moisture to ignite."

He agrees wholeheartedly. Little guy knows his stuff better than anyone.

However, as we venture on our quest, the heat is giving me a terrible headache. Sweat's soaking me as we collect a bunch of dry wood for the fire.

Think I need a break. I got most of the wood chopped, now we just need to gather it all up. "Time for a little break," I tell my buddy. "Let's take a shortcut past the oasis to cool off."

We head back. We press through some of the foliage, the thick leaves of the bushes hit against my scalding skin. I'm about to run into the water. But then something stops me dead in my tracks.

Morse squeaks something at my side, but my mind is a million miles away.

There on the lakeside, is Ette.

She's lounging, looking real relaxed on the shore while some Dwebble skitter around near her minding their own business. But they're not the problem.

The problem is her.

She's naked. Ass naked.

I don't know what to even say. My sight becomes tunnel vision as I trace the outlines of her body from a distance. Those curves of her, usually not too well hidden by her clothes are on full display in the radiant daylight. Her body emits a healthy glow as she stretches on the beach, a droll expression on her face while peering out at the water. Her hair, still a little wet from the water, sparkles in the sunshine. She's retied her braids fresh, they curl around her slender curves in a jaw dropping way.

My mind pieces it together slowly in comparison to how fast my heart is beating. She must have just taken one of those 'baths' she was talking about! The ones that don't require clothes because they make her feel weird. Well, now I've done it. I've caught her in the act. Or at least, immediately after. Who would have ever thought she'd be flaunting herself on full display? Based on her attitude, I'd think she'd be quick to cover herself up after bathing. Maybe there's a lot more to Ette I don't know. It only makes this whole thing more electrifying.

Yet, she's blissfully unaware of our presence. I guess it's possible the naïve princess didn't consider we'd be coming back so soon.

An overwhelming sense of excitement takes hold of me. What I'm seeing, even from this far away, is something else. The mere idea of her getting caught in the nude is one thing that's been lurking in my mind ever since that time in her house when I unwittingly barged in on her bathtime, but actually seeing her is another.

My whole body feels like it's on fire, and not just from working in the sun. It's all because of her. I can't even fathom what I'm going to do next. Simply observing is more than enough.

Just then, the winged creature from earlier soars above the water. I'm left speechless as it catches Ette's glare. Her body turns slightly, following the idly flying guardian, and I glimpse her bare front.

At that point I realize I'm not only about to totally lose control. I'm almost about to be caught. If she turns her head just a bit further, then I'll never hear the end of it. Besides, I can't exactly claim mutuality or that she wanted me to see her this way by sneaking up on her.

As difficult as it is, I pull back to the bushes. It was certainly stunning to see her from afar.

Morse is looking at me with crossed arms and a knowing smirk.

"Pfft. This stays between us guys or Imma dunk you in the oasis."

He laughs and blows a wax bubble.

"I'm serious." I go to pick up the wood from the ground and realize I'm stiff as can be with my own. It makes for an awkward moment.

Nevertheless, Morse is quick to return to our mission. He scurries on ahead back toward the dunes in the distance.

I follow him with a feeling of relief. Honestly, I'm really happy to have a friend like him I can trust. Not only has he saved my life countless times, but he knows how I feel about Ette. Guess that makes him alright.

My arm is weak from chopping earlier, so I switch to just gathering small pieces. Everything goes in the trunk. Once we've got enough lumber to last the night, I turn to Morse.

"Hey." I probably shouldn't be talking since it only dehydrates me more, but I'd feel funny if Ette heard me say this to him. "Listen, y'know how I told you before how I'm not a trainer. That's, well, it's complicated."

He wobbles back and forth expectantly.

"Here's the thing, Morse: me not wanting to be a trainer, ain't 'cos of you."

His growl makes me feel more confident. He gestures in fire-speak, "OK."

"You're strong, real strong. I like having you around. Hah, you've saved my ass so many times, in ways you didn't even know, man."

Maybe he's getting impatient, just get to the point.

"So, if ya don't mind me sayin', I don't want whoever I once was to change anything for us. I'm still gonna be your friend, and there's nothing in the world that'll tell me otherwise."

With a dubious leer, he looks to figure out my angle.

"Thanks for being my friend. Let's head back to camp."

We make it back to find Ette—clothed—and asleep. "Wow. Surprise, surprise."

Morse snickers. She's all coiled up in a cozy manner on the warm sand near the cool water, her comfortable outfit surrounding her supple form.

I drop the firewood near her knotted legs. Nope, she's still counting Mareep. "Ette," I grunt. "Hey, sleepyhead!"

Her eyes flash open. "W-Wha?!"

"What? It's not like you don't scare the shit out of me all the time."

She scrambles to adjust herself.

"Man, you'd make an easy meal. If I were a monster, I'd've eaten you right up."

She shakes her head and fixes her clothes. "Don't joke about that!"

"Whatever. You're just lucky I guess."

"I felt even more relaxed knowing we have a guardian looking out for us, so I spaced out just a tiiiny bit."

It's excuse after excuse with her. Still, I'm glad she's alright. Might be traveling with her, but I'm not her chaperone or anything. Wait. Why am I traveling with her? The question nags at me like a leaky faucet in the recesses of my mind. Sure, she wants to help me get the artifact and settle my debt, but I could do that on my own. She's taking care of my arm. But I feel like she wants to be on this journey for some reason she hasn't come to terms with. What does that make us? Travel companions? I don't know how she sees me except as friends. My brain is turning into sullen mush just thinking about this.

Her ears do that perky wiggle again and she asks me what's the matter. "Why do you look so worried?"

"It's nothing!" I say with a little more force than originally intended. "I think the sun's starting to cook me."

The campfire's easy to start with the help of Morse. He sets that kindling alight and soon we've got an exceptionally comfortable setup. From the truck, I grab the instant food and a large cast iron canister. Using spare wood, I construct a small spit and hang the can filled with water. Now we wait.

After the water starts to vigorously boil, Ette nudges me in the elbow.

"Hm?" I turn to see her drooling, eyes fixed on the packet of noodles in my hand. "Yikes!" I pull away.

She's like the zombies in an apocalyptic horror film, she keeps coming. The food is going to be the death of me.

"Hey, be patient, would you!" I clutch them close to my chest. "At these altitudes in Rocaire, you want to boil it longer. Five minutes to be careful."

She pushes her arms toward the noodles. Her hands grasp the plastic wrap since my cast prevents me from tugging them further away from her. "So…hungry…let me eat them raw."

"No way," I reply, wrestling with her. "This is a meal—a simple one, yes—but it must be respected."

She pouts without letting go. Her hands firmly plant on the back of mine as her fingers crease the wrapper nestled next to my hungry stomach. Her ravenous face leans in closer and closer.

"We need some flavor, then it'll taste amazing…how about those?" I gesture with a tilt of my head.

Thankfully, the misdirection works on her. "The colorful fruits in the trees?"

"Of course," my laughter is not without a hint of nervousness, "you didn't think I meant the cute little monsters, didja?"

Ette gives me a dour look.

"I bet if you telekinetically snatch a few lemons, limes, oranges, a couple dates, we can make this a healthier meal." I shoot her a disarming smile. "Need that vitamin C, I don't fancy getting scurvy."

She locks eyes with me. It's kind of scary when she does that so close. I don't know what's going on in her head behind that cold façade. However, my heart rate is rising from being next to her.

"Fine. But only because if you got sick that'd reflect poorly on my abilities as a nurse. Not because I'd love the delicious zest of fresh fruit on my portion or anything…" She licks her lips as she says that. Then stands up and strolls toward the trees.

Meanwhile, I add the noodles to the pot. Morse watches, leisurely munching on some tinder. He's tired, the dim light from his crown and saggy brows are proof. Suddenly, he lets out a laugh.

I turn my head to see Ette swatting her arms in the air at the canopy like a loon. "The hell's she doing?"

Morse doesn't know either.

Since she's unable to grasp the fruits with telekinesis, she's simply trying to whack them free from the trees. Even though Ette's tired and hungry, by slapping and swiping, she's spending way more energy than grabbing the fruits with a controlled pluck.

"How come her powers seem out of her control sometimes?" I wonder aloud to Morse. "Back in the cave, Ette had a lot more control over distant objects. The magnifying glass, the lever, something doesn't add up."

His fire signaling spells out, "Heart."

"Hm, her heart?" My hand stirs the pot. "Yeah, that's where Gardevoir get their power from…I think."

Morse lets out a big yawn, popping a large bubble of wax. He's going to nap. After all he's been through, I can't blame him.

When Ette returns, she's carrying an assortment of colorful citrus and lush dates in her skirt like a pouch. She pauses, breathes in deeply. "It smells so good!" she squeals at the bubbling cauldron.

"Pass those bad boys over here, and I promise, it'll be even better." Suddenly, a thought to help her train those fastidious psychic powers comes to mind as she inches closer. "Hey, Ette, why don't you try floating 'em steady over the pot so I can chop 'em?"

She sets herself down on folded legs, keeping the fruits in her lap. "O-Oh, you want me to do that?"

"Yep." I take out my pocketknife and craft a simple alibi to mask my intentions. "I've only got one working arm. I don't want to hurt you if you hold it with your hands."

"I never liked surgery," she says, "but I'll assist with the process." From there, she levitates one of the yellow citruses. It wobbles a little at first, but she manages to get a hold on it and keep it over the firepit.

My good hand dexterously shaves layers of skin off the lemon using the knife, while Ette levitates the fruit over our stew. "Great, now just squeeze it and we'll get the yummy juices in there too."

Ette clenches her palms together, and, like magic, the fruit collapses in on itself. Only problem is it sprays everywhere.

I squint my stinging eyes. "Agh! It burns!"

"Sorry!" In a hurry to wipe all the bitter juice from her face, she accidentally drops the whole lemon into the pot. "Oops! Oh no!"

"It's not that bad—it'll cook in there." I set the blade down to clean the bitter stickiness from my face.

"My powers—" Ette forlornly glares at her outstretched digits "—Why are they like this?"

I can tell she's really upset by the way she's giving her hands a thousand-yard stare. "Don't think too hard on it, Ette. It's simple: You gotta control it, otherwise we'll get soaked when you crush them up."

Earnest emotion comes back to her wet face by way of a frown. Then she straightens her posture, purses her lips, clenching her fingers above her heart. "Okay, I'll try even harder!"

"That's the spirit!" Honestly, I'm amazed. Her tenacity has overcome her hunger. Furthermore, I feel a sense of happiness flowing between us. "We'll try again, this time with a lime." That green sucker is the same color as her hair, maybe she'll have more luck with it.

Ette holds the lime steady as I shave it down to add zest. Stowing my knife, I say, "Okay, now, try to push the pressure on it from the top and sides. That way the juice escapes straight down."

She inhales to steel herself. Again, she clenches her palms, this time however from the top, almost like patting someone's head.

"It's working!" I exclaim, setting down my blade and cheering her on with a thrilled fist pump. "Nice!"

The delicate motion of her fingers psychically manipulates the fruit in such a way where it is indistinguishable from physically squeezing on the lime. Ette gasps at her work. However, after the last bit of juice flows out, she looks like she's going to break down.

"What's wrong?" I ask as she pulls the lime between her hands and clutches it.

"Alv…" Ette sniffles. Then, without warning, she lunges at me. Her hug is tight and knocks the wind out of me.

"What?" I ask, gazing at the long hair flowing down her back.

"You…you believed in me!" she says ecstatically.

"What the—?" I nearly choke from surprise. "Was nothin' I did, you pulled it off."

I feel her head shaking back and forth against my shoulder, her ears poke my neck. "No, you don't get it! My powers come from our emotions. You had good ones—really good ones—and they were like mine too! I could feel it so close to me, my powers were aligned with yours and it made me happier to share those emotions. That's why—that's why it worked so well!"

She's elated, but I don't understand what she's saying. Us sharing emotions is effecting her powers now? How's that possible? What does it mean? She's more attuned to it, that's to be expected. Still, I'd like to figure it out. "Yeah-huh, easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy," I mumble.

"But it was a lime!" she laughs.

Her genuine response makes me laugh too. Is that what sharing emotions is? "I'm glad it worked for you. Knew you could do it."

She squeezes my shoulders. "That's what I mean! You knew I'd be able to."

"Huh." It starts to make sense. If her powers are based on emotions, then maybe my confidence in her has a way of inspiring her? "What about when you were a nurse? Didn't you get this before?"

Her ear pokes me again as she shakes her head. "No. Maybe a few times, but the negative energy of patients always made it more difficult…" She swallows then pulls away from the embrace. "That's why…"

I see her clearly beneath her bangs. Her orange eyes, though a bit misty, hide a deep focus behind them. She lowers her gaze, green hair and pale ears drooping as she does so. She resembles the orange in her lap, with a white blossom and overgrown green leaves draping on her pale face.

"What I said before…about taking me back home." She delicately presses the juicy fruit between her palms.

"Yeah." I swallow hard. "I'll figure out how to—"

"—Don't," she interrupts.

"What, change your mind?" I don't know how to feel about this. On one hand, I'm relieved, but on the other, it's going to be tough to travel with her. It's a lot of responsibility.

Ette knots her fingers together on top of the fruit in her lap. "I need to be sure of something. In order to be sure, I'll need to find the Destiny's Knot."

"Well, that's good to have a goal—" my brow lowers "—how do I know you won't change your mind later?"

"Hmm." Ette closes her eyes, and she uses newfound control over her telekinesis to lift the fruit into the air. "I'll have to think of ideas."

Sounds strange the way she puts it like that. "Whaddya mean?"

Peeling the citrus's loose rind in midair with just her mind, her similarly colored eyes open brightly, without the shadow of doubt from before. She then breaks it in two, hands me half and takes the other.

"I'm starting to really enjoy seeing the world!" She takes a big bite of the juicy half-fruit causing it to squirt everywhere.

The glistening nectar sprays on my arm. I sigh. Makes a mess, but at least it smells sweet. "Look, ya eat 'em in slices by breaking them up." I demonstrate and go to hand it to her.

Her hands are wet and fragrant with the orange's scent. Embarrassed by the mistake she fidgets her glossy fingers in limbo midair.

"What? You want me to feed it to you?"

She scowls. Nevertheless, she opens her mouth.

Awkwardly, I give it to her, and she munches down on it. Judging by her smile, she must like it.

We continue to snack on the citrus together. Though it feels strange at first, neither of us want to be the one to stop.

When we run out, Ette confesses, "You know, Alv, you're helping me see things through a new light."

"A new light?" I'm happy to hear that, but the way she keeps referring to her power as inconvenient is worrisome. Shouldn't she be glad to have those cool abilities?

"I guess that light comes from my patient doesn't it?" Ette peers at me as though she's deliberating something overly complex, however her focus softens as she smiles. "That's you!"

"Me?" If the source of those powers does come from those around her, then being around sick, dying people all the time would leave an impression sourer than those lemons on Ette every day. Could that be why she's been such a grumpster? It feels like I'm starting to discover the real Ette underneath her originally cold demeanor. At the start of this journey, I didn't care, she was an obstacle who got in the way of my mission. However, I undeniably enjoy her company. She still tests my patience every once in a while, except now it's a lot more difficult to get upset because she started to open up. Due to this, I take her words to heart and ask sincerely, "How do you figure I'm able to change anything for you?"

She clutches her heart. "We're like the moon, our powers reflect the light and darkness of others," Ette whispers. "Sera told me that."

"Oh, not her again." Uncomfortably, I shake my head. "Sera's probably not who you want to look to for advice."

"I'm starting to feel like she was right…" Her face reddens.

After she kissed you? I want to ask but bite my tongue and scoff, "What's a crazy bitch like her know anyway?"

"A lot," replies Ette, slumping. "I feel like I missed out on learning everything from my biological family—those who lived without being raised by humans. She said she didn't like seeing a broken one like me…"

"You're not broken," I emphatically insist. "Get rid of that ugly thought Sera planted in your head! You were raised by humans—unconventional, sure, that's true—but it's what makes you, you!"

"Alv, you don't understand what it's like to discover your whole life is a lie—"

"You're right, I don't, because it's not! You are who you are, Ette." I exhale, trying to collect my fevered thoughts. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't grow or learn. But, please, don't try to be someone you're not for somebody else's sake, especially someone who's got the gall to make up stupid lies that you're broken."

Her ears wilt beneath her hair as she pouts. "Just because I want to learn more about who I am, doesn't mean I want to be like her."

It occurs to me that's what Ette said last night too. "I'd be careful if I were you. Sera had a way of getting inside your head, Ette. Here's the impression I got: Sera feeds off negativity. Struggling, suffering, those things make her stronger, Ette. You don't want to become like that."

"I know, I know." Ette's response doesn't particularly inspire confidence. "I've always been different from humans and different from my species. What am I, Alv?"

"You're you, Ette. I don't know what Sera tried to do last night, or what she said to you in her telepathy, but you can't let her make you dislike yourself." This is my chance to bring up the elephant in the room—our relationship. I gather the resolve to ask her what's really on my mind, what's been on my mind since she pecked me on the cheek in the cave. "Ette, if I have to keep you from those negative thoughts then I will, until you're able to stand up to them. You okay with that?"

Thankfully, she smiles genuinely. "Of course, I'm okay with that." Her arm reaches behind my neck and she rubs the bicep of my casted arm. "And I'll take care of you too, until you're better."

"Alright, deal," I reply, awkwardly shaking her free hand. Just as I realize how warm and soft her hand feels in mine, a bubbling noise grabs my attention. "Oh! The food's nearly ready."


	14. Chapter 14: Reprieve in Reflection

Chapter 14: Reprieve in Reflection

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Here we are, sharing a meal in the wilderness of Rocaire. It's different than I imagined. After chopping up the ripe dates atop each portion, I share the bounty with Ette and Morse.

Starting with that first warm bite, all my worries seem to melt away. What started out a simple instant noodle mix turned into a satisfying and flavorful meal. The sour citrus and sweet dates really amplify the whole dish with their unique, fresh flavors.

Not only is the blend of flavors savory, I'm also enjoying this experience with my friends. Something about eating with company always makes food taste better. I don't know why, but I don't need to understand it to know it's true.

However, we don't do much talking. We're all so hungry, it's hard to not focus on the meal.

"Delicious!" Ette says with glee between bites.

"Delizioso!" I repeat.

She grants me a large smile with her steaming bowl close under her chin. "You say a lot of weird words."

"Hah." I gulp down another savory mouthful and clear my throat. "It's nothing too weird, just a different way of expressing something, other languages are like that."

Her eyes go wide. "You can speak other languages?!"

"Nah, not perfectly, but I know some words. On my travels, I picked up a few things here and there."

"You've been all around the world then…!" She catches her breath in excitement. Her expression does little to conceal her internal thoughts of something like, "I want to see the world too!"

"Heh, all the food around the world sure is amazing too."

"Really?" She flutters her eyes. "I don't think I've ever had pasta this good."

"No way! You never ate instant?" It floors me. "Not once? In your whole life?"

She shakes her head. "Doctor Reeves said it wasn't healthy and highly addictive."

"Well, I can attest to the latter of those two statements. But by adding fresh fruit, you get your carbs, vitamins, fiber all in one sitting. Next time I'll add meat to it for protein too. Still, wouldn't recommend eating noodles every day."

"It'd be tough to do that, thinking of meals on the spot makes my head spin," replies Ette.

"Why?" I wonder.

She grins. "Because of catering."

"Catering?" My brow lifts. "As in, someone cooking for you professionally?"

"Yup, Doctor Reeves loves to cook, he's really good at it, but is so busy he can't always prepare meals." Her voice lowers. "The way he dexterously handles a sharp knife in the kitchen is what makes him such a good physician."

"Huh." Never thought of that. I guess being dexterous, understanding proportions, delivering on recipes, would all be good traits for a medically inclined man.

"I bet, with enough practice—" Ette takes another bite "—you'll get as good as him one day."

"As good as the Doc? Me? Impossible."

Her ears wriggle happily as she eats, making my heart melt. "Mmm! At this rate, you'll surpass the good doctor one day!"

My face becomes warm, and not from the food. "Naw way. I'm not even worthy of being a sous chef."

"So modest about your hidden skills, you're arrogant about just about everything else."

"Am not!"

She chuckles. "You're all red."

"Pff, the food's fiery." It's not, but I still blow over my spoon to pretend the temperature's there.

"So—" Ette lowers her eyelids "—what's your secret? How'd you figure out how to make this with fruits from the trees?"

"You know, I'm a spontaneous fella." I shrug. "And this here is one of my spontaneous recipes."

"Hm…'my recipe'…now you're talking like a chef."

"Oh, come on." My eyes roll. "You can't call this respectable cooking. Don't even got a proper stove!"

"No." Her lips form a sly smirk. "You said it yourself earlier, 'This is a meal—a simple one, yes—but must be respected.'"

Wow, she got me there. I thought in her ravenous hunger she would have forgotten my justification for not letting her eat the noodles raw like she wanted to. "True, and it is good."

"Weren't you going to tell me what was on your phone?" asks Ette.

"Oh, right."

Morse looks over in interest as well.

"See," I start to say, "I'm not originally from Rocaire, but I wound up stationed in Dezear."

"That's the capital of Rocaire!"

"Yeah, far to the east, on the edge of the Great Plains." I shake my head. "A major thoroughfare, an airport, a city that doesn't sleep. It's where the new League HQ is too. To be honest, the city's gotten so built-up in such a short amount of time, it's not like the rest of the region at all. Or, what I remember about it anyway…"

"Oh!" Ette's ears perk up. "Then you've been to Rocaire before!"

She caught that, didn't she? She's clever when she wants to be. "Yeah, it was a long time ago."

"How long ago?" Her brow furrows.

"Tough to say. Things weren't as developed. Must've been young when I visited."

"What do you remember about it?" she asks.

I'd rather not remember. "Oh. Uh. Not too much. Fewer people maybe. Since you haven't been to a capital city, that'd be tough for me to describe to you."

"Hm, I've seen pictures…Our patients from the countryside always say bad things about that place." Ette paws her chin in thought. "Do they really have steel towers and planes that reach up to touch the stars in the sky?"

"Skyscrapers and jet planes, yeah. It's a sight alright." I take a breath of crisp air, somewhat amused by her innocence. "But there's also a lot of pollution. Noise too. Gotten worse over time."

"O-Oh." Her ears wilt. "Why's that?"

"Because there's a lot of people there. The League forming in Dezear is special in a way, it's relying on a huge artificial population growth of 'Ambassadors' to spread its influence. Since the region's so spacious and there's barriers everywhere with the mountains, the capital is very centralized. Mountains, deserts, plains, all those natural obstacles, coupled with distance, makes spreading the culture of badge hunting and other nuance rules difficult to do. Not to mention the murderous scorpions, vultures, and spirits. And don't forget, since the Ancient Path is deeply rooted in the territory's culture, it's difficult to implement the League's ideals with the natives of Rocaire. Ambassadors, people not born in Rocaire from other Leagues, they're the New League's solution."

She glares suspiciously at me. "You say you're not a trainer, but you sure know a lot about the Leagues."

"Had to learn the ins-and-outs, being a trainer was once a thought I entertained." I shrug. "Now I'm just a second-rate delivery-boy."

That quizzical look in her eyes won't go away. "So, delivery-boy, why'd you visit Cortex?"

"Truth is, it never was supposed to turn out like this. Once I got the stone I was meant to be leaving. Cortex happened to be close to where my original target was."

"Which was?"

"Had to do with missing Ambassadors. You know, part of the New League."

"From what I understand, they're special trainers, and their medical fees are covered in part by insurance."

Covered by insurance, must be nice. I grunt to myself. "The New Rocaire League invites trainers from other region's Leagues. Flies 'em to Dezear's huge airport. Gives them a cute little title of 'Ambassador' while here in Rocaire, whole thing's advertised like a dang tourism gig."

"Ooh, tourism! That's all about seeing new places!" She takes another big bite and makes an equally sized grin. "I love that idea!"

Can't help but smile at her genuineness. At least she's listening. Or is she? She might be fantasizing again. "Yeah, but the Ambassador Program only sponsors trainers who will help the New League spread 'League culture' throughout Rocaire."

"League…culture?" she asks with food in her mouth.

"Stuff like collecting badges, following specific rules, and establishing a hierarchy of trainers." I shake my head and laugh. "Buncha bullshit."

"No wonder." She blows her bangs up out of her face. "Someone like you would never do that."

I try to laugh it off, but it hits me in a serious way how well she seems to know me so damn well.

"What?" Her head cocks. "Isn't it true?"

"Yeah, totally. I've always done things my own way. Gotten me into so much trouble, especially when I…" The white sheet of light starts to shimmer, closing in from my peripheral. Stop. I halt my thoughts before I go down that road. The moment I do it disappears.

"What?" Ette looks concerned. Can she feel something is wrong with me?

"It's nothing."

But her worried glare doesn't go away.

I try to focus on my explanation. "Rocaire has the Trials of the Pathwalker, you know, where you walk the Path of the Ancients. It's kind of hard to convince people to abandon their long-held traditions in exchange for collecting a couple shiny pieces of aluminum. Yet, in the shadow of the war, many of the older generation are gone, so there's a unique opportunity to replace the old ways with a new system on the backs of trainers from other regions, which - conveniently - consolidates power in the New League."

"Doctor Reeves never spoke about the war." Ette gives a growl. "But patients at the clinic who were old enough to witness it would mention how different the world was back then. There were more Pathwalkers?"

"Probably were."

"Then, that's why the New League is making their power-grab in Rocaire now, it's because they have an advantage?" Ette deduces.

"Well said." I give her a roguish smirk. "However, they're hamstrung by centralization near the capital. Rocaire is spread out, has a lot of wilderness, and is sparsely populated outside the metropolitan area. That's where the Ambassador Program comes into play. Trainers in the Ambassador Program are vetted for following the rules of their home League. Registration, ID, 'mons in the database, for example. There's also the requirement to adhere to New League rules during their time in Rocaire and serve as the League's agent, follow all orders, whatever crap that means."

"Oh, I see. And those pesky rules come from the New League in Dezear?"

"You got it. However, there's no shortage of tension between these bona fide stooges of the New League and the native population outside the city—who'd rather the Rocaire League not form. People in the country don't fancy being ordered around by a centralized League since its policies would quash autonomy from independent municipalities, and the 'Home Rules' Rocaire is known for."

"Hm, then the towns in Rocaire, they're sort of like this oasis, they each have their own local guardian who looks out for them."

"Huh." Once again, her perceptiveness surprises me. "That's a really good way of looking at it honestly."

Her eyelids lower slightly like she's remembering something. "I think that might be why people usually don't have much good to say about Dezear and the people from there."

"Yeah. Lot of people coming from Dezear in the New League's Ambassador Program aren't Rocaire natives. Country kids," I give a short laugh, "they even got a name for the trainers in the Ambassador Program: 'Trippers'. Makes sense the longer I'm here. Trainers flocking in from far away places into my backyard, given the New League's blessing to run all over the sacred sites of the Path, so long as they follow the League's orders and do what they're told."

Ette is listening carefully, but I hope I'm not going too far into detail. Then she gasps in realization. "Alv! You should've said something earlier!"

What does she mean? Did I say something I shouldn't have?

"If you're in the Ambassador Program, then maybe your medical fees would've been waived or at least partially covered by the New League!"

"No. Couldn't be, not without a license to train. I was—" I try to remember the reason, watching ripples on the pristine water "—doing an investigation involving the program."

"Investigation!" Ette leans in and lowers her voice. "On what?"

"Stuff so scary, it'll keep you up at night." I try to pass it off as a joke, but the goosebumps on my arms suggest otherwise.

"As if!" Her head tilts forward in worry. "You don't seem like a detective, but, was it some sort of corruption in the organization?"

"If only," I huff. "That'd be an easier job. At least corrupt people are made of the same matter as me."

"Same matter?" she whispers. "What's that mean?"

"Matter comes in all shapes and sizes. But sometimes, despite it changing form, it'll retain properties of what it used to be. Memories. Qualities. Tendencies. Even, like you saw, emotions. _Its _past."

"Like Yamask!"

I nod. She really can be astute, it might be easier for her to get what I'm feeling with her next to me. "Ever read stories about the Great War?"

At first Ette is taken aback by the subject change, yet her wide eyes tell me she's intrigued. "Doctor Reeves served in the army when he was barely older than a boy. But he never talked about it, he didn't want me to read about it either. The war was a taboo subject in our household. The camo trunk with the weapons was one of the memories he wanted to lock away for good from his heart. When I wanted to learn about it, he insisted, 'All you need to know is the suffering of so many was too much for a heart to bear'."

"The Doc's right." I wistfully glace up at the clear blue sky and decide to sum it up. "Many, many people and monsters died on the battlefield. Over what? Dreams of distant conquest? Ushering in a New World Order? I don't even know. The point is, worldwide wars aren't about honor and glory. There was a lot of grisly death. Death gripped the whole world unlike any other time in history. Its repulsive stench stretched everywhere. Cities, towns, villages, few were spared from the chaos of conflict. War promises, and death follows."

"Death…" Her ears wilt the lowest I've ever seen.

"Something strange followed the Great War." My voice lowers. "There was a noticeable increase in the number of a certain type of monster. An unprecedented amount, really. The Ghost Type."

Morse squeaks.

"Ghosts?" Ette looks over at him, as do I. "Like Morse?" she asks.

"Morse is Morse." I force a smile to cheer him up. "He's a weird one, but he's not the variety of ghost I'm after—though, boy, am I happy I met him. He changed my perspective. When you're dealing with vicious ghost monsters…" There's a harsh throbbing in the front of my head and my voice unexpectedly cracks. My vision turns murky for a moment, the blue sky loses all hue. I don't know what spell came over me, I have to fight through it. Blinking, my headache subsides and the color returns, but I still feel this raw sense of dread buried deep inside my chest. "…Like Yamask, it's stupid easy to develop a dogmatic view."

Ette's jaw drops. "So that's how you knew so much, you were hunting ghosts!"

My fingernails tap roughly on my cast. "Secret's out, I guess."

"Then, the banner with your initials—" Ette points a finger into her open palm like she's holding an invisible cell "—on your phone, Ops. Para. A. P."

"Operations Paranormal Alvin Paine—that does have a nice ring to it, huh?" I reply, waving my hand and bowing my chin. "I'm…well, I used to be at least…an operator tasked with determining the reason for the surge in paranormal activity."

"No way!" She shakes her head, ruffling her bangs. "I thought 'Para.' meant paratrooper. Would explain why you knew how to use Doctor Reeves's rifle."

"Yeah, no." I gulp. "Not in a million years. See, I'm really, really not good with heights. Thought for sure I was gonna die riding Mandibuzz."

Ette twirls hair around her finger. "Oh, so, you've got a fear of high places. Acrophobia."

"Nah, just a normal, healthy fear of hitting the ground real hard," I stress. However, she smirks and raises a brow. "What's so funny?"

"I was just brainstorming ways to cure you of your phobia. Maybe, if I lifted you high into the air, then dropped you into the water…"

"—Then I'll never cook another meal for you again!" I glower.

"Fine," she huffs. "But what about the ghosts? Why is Ops. Para. searching for them?"

I furrow my brow. "The official reason is knowledge. If there's a correlation between the number of deaths from the war and the spike in ghosts, there's implications about the source of those ghosts. Supposedly, that'd be valuable on a philosophical level."

"Philosophical?" Ette tilts her head.

"Oh, y'know, askin' questions that go like: Ever wonder why we're here?"

She scrutinizes the area. "Well…where else would we be?"

"I dunno, one of those big mysteries in life without a clear answer, isn't it? Could be a cosmic coincidence or maybe there's a plan for everything. Hmm. Yeah. That kinda stuff'll keep ya up all night wondering."

She contemplates a split-second then reacts in surprise. "What?! I thought you meant why are we out here, in this desert?"

I smirk at her innocent outlook. "Didn't take you to be much of a philosopher either. See, powerful people who fancy themselves as such, by their esoteric persuasions, they're the ones willing to pay big bucks for answers on their quest to unravel the world's secrets. However, can't be getting your fine linen vestments all scuffed up out in the field, oh no, ivory towers are much more suitable. The system works like this: Operators do the dirty work and get a lump of cash for their finds. To get information about something supernatural, there needs to be a lot of troops on the ground scouring for clues. All sorts of skills are on the table, mine included."

Her posture slumps. "So, Alv, what you're telling me is…you're basically a grunt."

"No!" Heat gathers beneath my collar. "Am not!"

"You're angry," she points out. "Convince me otherwise."

"I'm _researching _a phenomenon. That makes me a field researcher, got it?"

"Researcher?" She laughs. "You?"

"_Field_ researcher." I scoff, "Not some goon in a dingy lab. Big difference!"

"I never mentioned a lab." Sighing, she wonders, "What do you even study?"

"I study ghosts, by huntin' 'em down and Anchor Breaking the rotten ones before they cause too much trouble."

"Anchor Breaking?" Ette tilts her head to the side. "You've used that term before."

"Technically, the science term is 'Apparition Partition'. Whatever. Names don't matter when you gotta problem. The _something _that ties a spirit here to our world, _that _is known as the Anchor, gotta break that to be rid of the apparition."

"Is that how you deal with it?" She continues to make a perplexed face. "By destroying their connection to the world?"

"Sorta. There's no exact science to it, it's all about finding an exploitable weakness, a chink in the armor." My expression sours. "You think bottles of Holy Water work? Here's a juicy hint: No, sure doesn't. There's no magic bullet I know of. Each specimen is different, you saw how we incorrectly assumed Yamask's mask was an anchor, but it was the eye."

Morse lets out a weary yawn and looks inquisitively our way. I can sense he's feeling uneasy.

"Oh!" She stares at Morse, who is lounging nearby in the shade while we talk, and then back to me. "What if you use his powers to…!"

"Chuck a Shadow Ball and be done with it? Wrong. Sure, you can knock one out in an official match with that strategy. But you gotta remember, things that're not living don't often play by the rules of the living." I catch my breath. "Except, there's one rule they follow."

Her ears wiggle under her hair.

"Like I said before, despite matter changing its form, it'll retain…pieces of that other self. Certain qualities seem to carry over. Those properties…of the past. Its past. You saw them as emotions. Whatever _it _is that ties a violent ghost to the world, _that _is the key…to exorcising them."

"You're an exorcist then!?" Ette curls her braids around her fingers with such tension her fingertips turn pale blue. "Alv?"

"Whatever you wanna call it." I hang my head. "It's not like in the movies. There aren't any prayer beads. No sacred rituals. No sacramental oils. Only you, a mortal, and a being, immortal, vying to exist. Whoever loses, loses everything."

Morse wimpers. I should've said something sooner. But how could I? We became such good friends. How could I tell him, a ghost, what I do? I'm not just a ghost hunter. I'm an exorcist. A ghost executioner.

"I never asked to walk this path. But. When a malevolent ghost is wreaking havoc on the world around you, you gotta use your goddamn head. _Study _them. Why are they here? It means identifying the Anchor which holds them here to our world. Once you figure that out, you know where their beating heart is. And if you want them gone, just like with us mortals, you have to destroy their heart!"

Ette seizes up and clutches her heart.

Seeing her react like this, I sense I misspoke. "What's wrong?"

"It's not a good thing for me to think about." She tenderly holds her chest. It's hard not to stare as she does so. "I don't like that analogy."

Dammit, I keep fucking up. First with Morse and now with Ette. Can't I do anything right?! "Sorry, I know your heart's important to you."

She frowns at me. "You have no idea, Alv."

How important is it to her species? Humans have our hearts inside our chest, so we don't visually see them like Ette can. Her heart has a certain mystical quality to it. It's mesmerizing in a way I can't exactly describe. The few times I've actually touched it, I was too close to her to actually see it. However, when my chest was against hers, it felt like a smooth, elliptical gem or warm jewel nestled near her breastbone just where the valley of her softness began. It didn't feel jagged or sharp, or even hard. Did it physically change when I held her close? Was my perception altered? I have no idea, it felt so surreal to hold her close. My mind might've been playing tricks on me.

Ette must have caught me staring because she shifts her body.

"Ette, Morse, I've turned over a new leaf." I sit up straight. "I was with Ops. Para., but I've decided to be strong on my own. That means I'm gonna put you, my friends, first when I make any decisions."

Morse waddles toward me. He makes a firm expression before sticking a wax hand out. I smack it in a high five. Then he smiles and cheers.

"You could've said something sooner." Ette hesitates to partake in our reaffirmation of friendship. "Still, your story is consistent with your actions."

"Obviously it's consistent," I growl. "Besides, what do I gain by lying to you?"

Ette sways back and forth, yet her eyes remain focused on the oasis in front of her finished plate. With two fingers she presses pink welts on her forearm. "I don't know."

"Nothing, that's what! That's why I'm telling you in the first place. It's the same thing I said to you in the cave about opening up. I want you to know about me so we're not weird strangers on this adventure."

Her fingers coil together. "We're weird strangers?"

"Not anymore," I reply. "Why, you'd rather be?"

"No."

"Good. Because that's the type of thing friends would say." After I speak, Morse slides toward my knee. My hand pats the bandages Ette applied this afternoon.

"Friends," repeats Ette as she makes a nervous yet happy smile.

"Sure. You, Morse, and me. The three of us are friends. We all got one thing in common, y'know?"

"Destiny's Knot," she whispers.

"It brought us together, that's true. But, we don't even have the dang thing. Not like it's what's keeping us together. We got each other's support as friends, we've each decided to do our own thing, be true to ourselves, and not let our pasts dictate our future."

Morse squeaks enthusiastically in concurrence.

"Well? How's that sound, Ette?"

In a rattled voice, she answers, "Of course." Then under her breath she mutters, "Why'd you make it sound so simple?"

I shrug. "C'mon, you ought to know by now, I like things simple."

Morse's flame flickers brightly.

"Ops. Para." Ette repeats. "Death. Ghosts. Nothing simple about that."

The gloomy cloud of the past follows me around despite my desire to cast it away. But I can't be rid of what I feel. Not until I accomplish my mission. "There's one hint I have concerning my last mission. A single word. Necrosis."

"Necrosis!" Ette yelps.

"What's it mean to you?"

"That's…well, it's a medical condition. A premature cell death, caused by a flaw in the ordinary course of cellular decommission," responds my nurse. "It stops healing from working normally."

"Uh-huh, go on."

"Gangrene is the most common example." She glares at my cast. "Destruction of the infected cell's membrane releases toxins into the space outside the cell. The inflammation that follows destroys other tissue surrounding the dead tissue, spreading the disease of death. Eventually, there is nothing left but decomposing flesh."

"Leave it to you to be spot-on with the definition."

She coddles my injury in her arms. "What, are you worried you have it? I've been keeping an eye on it!" Ette's defensiveness, how she speaks with such dedication, it's a little embarrassing for me.

"No, that's not it at all." Despite my embarrassment, I'm reluctant to lose her tender attention. "I asked because someone in Ops. Para. once described the phenomenon leading to the increase in ghosts as the very same condition, but not in the corporeal sense."

"Someone?" Ette's head tilts to the side.

"Yeah. Remember when I mentioned Eric, the older guy who lost a leg when he saw combat on the West Front?"

She nods. "Your war-buddy?"

"Bet he'd blow a gasket at you for calling him that." My fond memories of talking with him bring a small smirk. "I'm not even old enough to have been around back then. Anyways, Eric was one of my seniors in Ops. Para."

"Ohh…" replies Ette.

"He lost half his leg to infection—gangrene. Couldn't walk after amputating, medical supplies were running thin too, he didn't even have crutches. After the operation, the field facility he was at fell under enemy siege and had to be evacuated. The attack was so sudden and brutal, the medical staff couldn't save everyone during the evacuation. Eric was left behind enemy lines, unable to flee without a leg and left for dead."

Ette and Morse look at me with wide eyes.

"How did he live?" she asks.

"A 'mon helped him walk again. A Marowak gave up her bone club to fashion a prosthetic limb. Eric was able to escape before the enemy torched the facility. If it weren't for the selfless monster, he would have burned to death crawling from a bed."

Ette sits there silently pondering the selfless act.

"At first, I didn't believe it, but he had the charred club to prove it. She didn't owe him anything, but still rescued him like she would one of her own children. That's when I started thinking seriously about how people and monsters get along."

Leaning forward as the gentle breeze caresses her hair, Ette's eyes are lost in her thoughts.

"Thing is, the higher-ups in Ops. Para. were talking about how Eric's physical condition prior to amputation, Necrosis, was similar, some way, to the phenomenon which gave rise to more ghosts."

Her ears rise. "You mean…"

"Yeah, this so-called 'grunt'—" I sarcastically bring my thumb to my chest "—overheard the analogy. And it makes some sense, because supernatural stuff needs to be broiled down to concrete examples so us mortal folks can wrap our head around it."

"That's very sensible!" Her eyes flutter with blinks.

"Supposedly, comparing the ghost phenomenon in Rocaire to Necrosis makes it easier to understand what's occurring. But that's where the shore my knowledge ends and the sea of speculation begins."

After a moment of contemplation, Ette says, "What's it all mean?"

"Been tryin' ta figure it out," I grumble.

"Won't your old friends help you?"

"Not exactly on the best of terms with the old gang."

Ette plants her hands in her lap and asks pointedly, "Why'd you leave Ops. Para. before figuring it out?"

"Huh? Oh. We had an…irreconcilable difference of opinion. Didn't like, uh, being the low man on the totem pole. Yeah, that's it. Wasn't anything special." My breath catches tightly in my chest as I fiddle with my flip phone attached to a small apparatus with a panel. Fortunately, Reeves had an old solar charger to feed it juice and there's plenty of sun for that.

Ette leers. "I'm surprised your phone didn't help them to find the ghosts. Since it shakes whenever one is nearby."

Damn, is she shrewd. "That'd be pretty handy for any ghost hunter, huh?" I nervously force a laugh. "Almost like cheating, wouldn't ya say?"

Again she sends me a piercing glare. She might not be reading my thoughts, but she did say something about being able to read hearts. I wonder if she's trying that on me. How would I even know?

"Yeah, uh-huh, right, so, reckoned I'd solve the ghost mystery on my own. Part of getting stronger is standing tall on your own two feet." Doubt she completely believes me, but she did fall for the fortune tellers earlier. Better keep talking so she doesn't think too hard on it. "Back in Dezear, with Ops. Para., I started researching this surge of ghosts. Turns out, I'd been beaten to the punch. Investigation was already underway, locally. But the news hadn't reached my ear from within Rocaire. It had to do with the Ambassador Program, which, as luck would have it, is also headquartered in the capital of the New Rocaire League."

"These are the people from outside Rocaire, the trippers?" she asks.

"Yep. Like I said, the Ambassador Program welcomes licensed trainers from other regions to tour Rocaire, while the New League gauges their behavior to establish official gyms. However, local folks begrudge the New League for threatening to overhaul the traditions here by using the Ambassador Program to force a shift in regional culture." I draw in the arid air and exhale. "Now that's outta the way, I didn't want to take sides, I'm here to do a job and get paid."

"If you lived here all your life, I bet you'd change your mind, be a little more opinionated!" Ette scowls.

"Yeah-huh, I do have an opinion, if not for all this regional drama we wouldn't've met," I counter.

She's got no answer to that one other than a pursing of her lips. Good.

"The New League kept losing contact with a location, a hot-spot. There were plans for constructing a gym, cementing ties of a place on the Ancient Path to the League, all that jazz." My expression sours. "Only one problem. People and 'mons in the Ambassador Program who venture there just…disappear. And, wouldn't you know, the type of gym it was supposed to be: Ghost. Well whaddya know, that's _my _speciality."

"That means!" Her eyes go wide. "The New Rocaire League in Dezear requested Ops. Para. to investigate what's happening to people in the Ambassador Program?"

"Bingo, Ette. That's where I come in. The operation had to be clandestine to avoid stirring a panic, and have zero official ties to the New League, in case things went awry. They needed mercs. Guys who don't have affiliation with the Leagues."

"Outlaws." Ette grimaces.

I shake my head. "Hey, don't lump me with bandits and murderers. Only wound up in this gig from trying to clear my name."

"But, the officers in town said you didn't have a name in their records! So, how can you do that?"

She's pretty sharp when it comes to me. "Dunno." I stretch and yawn. "Funny thing is the longer I travel the less important it seems. Doesn't matter what people call me, I'm making my own way, on my own terms. Yeah…My way."

"Way to sidestep my question, you jerk." She huffs with mild irritation. "What makes you any different than the trippers?"

"Licensed trainers carry with them certain equipment, which tracks them and their 'mons, it's regularly inspected by the bureaucracy of the New League. However, all the regulations didn't do them a damn bit of good, since people were vanishing off the face of the map even with state-of-the-art GPS."

"State-of-the-art?" Ette's squinting gives away how confused she is.

"It's older tech now that I think about it. From the war, used for ballistic missiles, submarines, and other weapon systems where time and position are critical. After, it became a civilian and League technology. You've got an array of these satellites up in space, they're able to communicate with newer phones and pinpoint your location on a map. Older models—like my flip here—don't have this feature."

"You might get lost without it?" Ette grabs hold of the charging phone and admits, "That's scary."

"Guess that's possible, but I'd rather phrase it as I can't be found. However, it's more about _what_ my phone in particular can _find _— ghosts."

"Mhm," Ette groans, "that's right, you're wanted."

"An inconvenience. I'm gonna clear my name and prove they were wrong, all wrong—!" I abruptly catch myself veering further into the past than necessary.

"_They_?" She squints.

"Talking about the authorities." I wonder if she can see how much I'm sweating, lying to her, even in half-truths, is really getting difficult for me. "Don't worry Ette, I'm gonna pay back my debt to the clinic, even without the trove of gems we found underground. See, a crook wants to get away with it, I want to make things right on my own terms, my way."

Ette frowns. "Alv, you're just a rebel."

"Sure." I laugh in response, but inside I get this noxious, festering feeling right down to my bones. Where, no, _when_, did it all go so wrong?

Ette picks up on my melancholy and asks, "What's the matter?"

"I'm tired." Getting up, I run a hand through my windswept hair. "Gonna clean up, take a well-earned nap."

After thoroughly washing our camp utensils, I go for a dip in the oasis water. It's cool, refreshing, and exactly what I need to sooth my sore muscles. Floating on my back, the endless, pure blue sky captivates my marvel. It's like being inside a giant sapphire.

I clean my clothes, put them on the bank for Morse's flame to quickly dry. Taking a bar of soap, I scrub deep into the pores below a bristly stubble. With my flat blade, I shave those stubborn hairs on my neck beneath my face, peering at my reflection until satisfied with the rough-yet-tidy appearance of a properly groomed five o'clock shadow. What a difference it makes! Going from scraggly hobo to presentable gent in a matter of minutes feels great. Hoisting myself from the water, I get dressed. If only I had a hat or some sunshades. Then I'd be all set.

Finding two palm trees at the right distance, I get to work setting up a hammock. It's surprisingly easy. It'll be comfy, nice to keep the sand off my body by being off the ground. While working on it, I'm imagining rocking to sleep by the waterside in the shade of the rustling leaves above. Once it's all set up, I grin at my work, and look over at Morse. The little guy is positively bushed from fighting. So am I. On the other hand, the campfire beside him crackles with life. My gaze languidly wanders from him to the rifle leaning within arm's reach against the tree. "Just watching you snore is making me too tired."

Ette already rinsed off while we were gathering firewood. Her new outfit is cuter than her last, though the differences are subtle. She likes those frilly skirts and thigh-highs. Her top is like the corset from earlier, except it's a bit shorter, appropriate for the desert heat. Fabric is thin and glossy, like silk. When my senses zero in on her, it's really striking what little control I have over my thoughts. Ette is interesting. She's got a genuine personality along with her looks. In my heart there's an attraction I can't so easily dispel.

Conscious of my wandering thoughts, I sit down on my quickly constructed sleeping arrangement. The soft cloth of the hammock is warm from the sun but breathes with the gentle wind. Just as I'm about to lay down, something softer than the hammock bumps my back.

"Ette?"

She's sitting on the opposite side looking out at the oasis. "What?"

"Huh…?" Her hair has a pleasant scent of spicy sweet citrus—the essence of spring and summer. It flows free in the breeze and around me.

"I'm NOT sleeping on the ground," she says with authority.

"That's, well, I don't want you to do that." I force a cough. "We only got one of these though."

"You shouldn't be on the ground with your condition." She crosses her arms. "We could…sha—"

"Say what?" Didn't catch that last part. It sounded like she was going to say share. However, I can't imagine Ette being the type to insist we sleep together—

And yet, without warning, she tosses her legs up and head back, laying down and nearly kicking me out. I manage to hold on as her motion causes us to swing back and forth.

Great. Just great. She stole my comfy spot. However, the more we sway, the more I realize it's become more comfortable with her.

She settles with her back facing me, looking out to the water, totally quiet.

I kick up my legs and lay down next to her. My back bumps against her long hair and braids as I look out in the opposite direction toward the desert, campfire, and sleeping Morse.

Her hair feels like an incredibly puffy pillow. The way the hammock is set up squeezes us together toward the middle, that's simple gravity at work. However, what I did not consider was what having my body against her would do. I'm not even facing her, simply feeling her warmth is more than enough to make my blood pressure rise. When her legs twist around mine as she tries to adjust herself, I suddenly get the feeling we're going to be getting a lot closer.

There's something strange about this too. She's got her back flush against mine, I'm not being jabbed by the red protrusion on her back. There's still something there, but it doesn't feel the way I remember it looking. It's sort of like a smooth, shallow mound resting on the middle of my spine. Almost like a warm, round gem about the same width as my backbone. Which is strange since it seems to fit right into a place where it doesn't hurt or feel the least bit uncomfortable.

How can that be? I start to adjust myself to look, but before I catch a glimpse of what happened to her heart, she whacks me on the side of my head with one of her braids.

"Take it easy, would you?" She lets out a laugh and tells me, "I'm not used to sleeping like this."

She probably thought I wanted to face her for a different reason.

In hopes to change the course of my thoughts orbiting around her, I imagine Mareep in a field, jumping over a wooden turnstile. Hundreds of them. All in a line, jumping over a dumb little fence in a big green field. While Ette's sweet hair blows in my face.

What!? Why is she there in my imagination? Oh, right, because her head's bumping into mine as she squirms to find her comfort.

Looks like this is going to be more trouble than I thought. Hopefully she falls asleep soon so she'll stop wriggling and making me feel so aware of her. Everything she does, even the puniest of nudges, makes me want to concentrate on her more.

Can't really do much, my eyelids start to sink. After eating so many carbs I can't fight the inevitable slumber. Please, sleep, come to my rescue. Not because I don't like this, but because I don't know where it might lead.

The afternoon sun is starting to sink in the sky, basking the oasis in a warm glow beneath the rustling of foxtail palms. The picturesque view, her sweet aroma carried by a soothing breeze, sends me into a trance.

My breaths are synching with hers. The feeling's unreal. As my mind starts to daydream, I realize I wouldn't be in this situation if I wasn't so stubborn. Suppose there are worse things.


	15. Chapter 15: Starlight Oasis

**Chapter 15: Starlight Oasis**

«=======================================================================================»

Everything around me is brilliant white. Brighter than the midday sun. Shapes, shadows, all are muted obscurities etched upon an infinite canvas.

"Where…where the hell am I?" Instinctively, my fingers press against my brow to shade my eyes from the harsh light, which is pouring down from above, shrouding everything in magnificent radiance.

Without warning, my deepest fear overtakes me. "Please, no. Don't let this be the hospital room." Though I can't see, the sensation of tears well in my eyes. "Fucking goddammit!" I yell. "NO!"

As if spurred by my voice, the astral light drenching the passage begins to recede. Things start to come into focus, the light subdues, though only slightly. I can see the faint outline, a giant stone structure with a vaulted ceiling touching the sky through its windows.

Beneath my palms, I'm staring down a truly incredible corridor, shrouded in a masterful display of gothic architecture. From my vantage, I'm at the top of a long stretch of stairs, a grand marble platform leading to more stairs on either side. Behind me, great columns stand between beautiful narrow windows of gold stained glass. They reach above crimson medieval banners, to lofty heights. But there, I notice something wrong. The ceiling's masonry is deeply fragmented, gaping holes allow sunlight through shattered stone wall below the ridged frame of the roof.

"Is this some sorta castle?" I wonder. "Was." That's the better word. It might have been bombed long ago. Vegetation has overtaken the lower region of the court. Dense vines and vivacious flowers coil around the granite, transforming the former palace into an open-air greenhouse.

"What…?" I struggle to catch my breath. It could be a dream, but my dreams haven't been in color since before the trauma. Even still, I've never experienced something so vivid that wasn't real. "How…How is this possible?"

My entire body quivers as the once uncertain hall clears, revealing a mighty structure unlike any I have ever seen. I'm at an altar of sorts, high above the rest of the long pathway leading to a tunnel of pure light. The blinding channel forces me to look away, back toward the gigantic bricks of marble comprising the hall as I bring my sight back to myself.

From there I find myself looking down. However, the sight does not match with memory, jarring my consciousness into a knot. "These aren't my clothes." It surely costs more than I've ever earned. A jet-black tuxedo with a prominent boutonniere on the peak lapel.

"The fuck is this?" I squirm frantically in place—my fingers race along the fancy wardrobe.

And then the revelation hits me: my bum left arm, it's been moving this whole time. But not just that, it's feeling everything. There is no cast. No broken bones. My once useless fingers caress the succulent petals of the flower against my heart. It's so soft and delicate, I forget how to breathe and start hyperventilating.

"No…this…it can't be real." My mind is aching from all the sensation running through my arm. All of it is coming back in a flood of sensation. The way my digits move, how they dexterously dance around the threads and leaves stitched onto the dressy jacket, it's too much. The way I can squeeze the soft fabric, feel it rub against my fingers, it's like I've recovered completely. Any shadow of the past, the pain, all of it, gone.

I feel myself start to break down. Tears well in the corners of my eyes like rain. "Why? Is this some cruel joke?" I wheeze.

In the distance, down the long hall of light, I see a shadow from the end of the tunnel.

"What? What is that?"

Both my hands interlock as I try to regain my composure. The feeling sends a chill down my spine. It's so simple yet so pleasing to feel in my arm once more. Shaking my trembling head, I strain myself to override the sensation and focus.

"It's coming toward me." My eyes widen. "Heading straight this way." But, strangely, my feet are rooted in place. It's as if the broken arm has been replaced by two unmoving legs. I smack my thighs, trying to wake them up through the dress pants. It does not seem to work.

By now the figure is closer, it has covered quite a distance, walking along the gilded path toward me while I scramble to locate my bearings. It's garbed in purest white, shimmering light from all around it like a star.

"Wait…wait a goddamn minute…" There's not enough air for me to breathe as I realize the setting. Familiar melodies, some mixt celebratory hymn of strings, fills my cranium. The altar. The music. The fancy clothes. This—cathedral. It's a wedding ceremony! But who's? Mine? I'm not engaged. Yet here I stand, at the edge of being a bachelor in groom's clothes. "What the fuck?"

That's when I see her. She's obviously the bride in this getup. Her dress is billowing and pure white. It reminds me of Sera's gown when she transformed, except it's not black, but sparkling like fresh snow.

I'm shaking uncontrollably. What the hell am I doing here? Why is this happening? Is it because of those thoughts of her in my mind?

She climbs the steps. Adorned with white flowers, her hair is tied behind her head. It's obvious who she is before we're even standing face-to-face.

"Ette…" I say under my breath.

She nods without hesitation. Even her slight motions bedazzle me, as crystals stitched into its fabric reflect light everywhere.

"Why?" I pant. "Ette, why are you here?"

Her pale cheeks flush. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No, none of this is—!" I reach out and grasp her slender shoulders. Her gown reminds me of silk, yet so much more luxurious than anything I've ever seen her in. Beneath both my palms, I feel her lithe body quiver in anticipation.

"Hey," she whispers, "didn't you promise me?"

"Promise?" Searching my memory, nothing comes to mind. "What're you talking about?"

She smiles gently. "You said we'd be together. No matter what."

"I…did?" It doesn't ring any bells. "Maybe in the cave I said something along those lines. I wasn't implying we'd be getting married!"

"Yes, you did. And it was the real you." She nods keenly. "It made me so happy."

This whole interaction continues to confound me. There's something different about how she's addressing me, but I can't place it. Again, I repeat to her serene gaze, "I did?"

Ette nods, a single coil of her hair comes loose dangling near her sparkling diamond earrings. "And I insisted: Always."

"Ette, I don't remember any of that!"

Oddly, she doesn't frown or do anything grouchy like I'd expect. Instead, her grin yields to chuckling. "Of course you don't. You passed out right when I said it. But you still must have heard me somehow – in your subconscious – otherwise we wouldn't be here."

My blood freezes in my veins. Did I die? Is this some sort of afterlife?

She answers my bewildered expression with a bigger smile. "But now we can be. And that's all we ever wanted."

"We wanted this?" As fascinating as it is, I don't understand how we got into this. I didn't make any specific vow to Ette, so why are we here and now? "Ette…" My tone abruptly shifts to become more serious and formal given the surrounding circumstances. "Colette, what IS…this?"

She hums airily and looks around, almost as if she's momentarily sharing in my confusion. "This is a place you don't know where or when you are. But you can feel who you're with." She gestures to the diamond ring on her finger as it touches her core. "That means it is our Heart Home."

"Heart…Home?" It sounds like something a Gardevoir would come up with.

"Home. It's what we share, our consciousnesses, our emotions, all of it together beyond the reach of space and time."

"Beyond the reach of space and time?" It sounds impossible.

"You know, they say not even light can escape." She holds me tightly. "But I see plenty of light, your light, my light, it's all here with us."

Every color imaginable, all of them are bedazzling. Yet the light isn't harsh like daylight. It's warm, which reminds me of the sun. The more I observe the more I realize the environment doesn't make sense. Those kaleidoscopic lights curve and bend around the center of the sky like a distant horizon, something I've never seen light do before. However, I don't know what this light is. What does she mean by it being her light or my light?

While I'm wondering, I feel a gentle, familiar sensation join with my thoughts. There's a sort of lingering orange and citrusy scent surrounding me, the same as Ette.

She lets out a satisfied chuckle. "These lovely lights…they're ours."

For the first time I realize with certainty she just read my mind! This HAS to be a dream. I go to pinch myself, but Ette quickly clasps my wrist hovering over my cheek.

"You said you wouldn't do that." Her smile doesn't falter. "I guess you don't remember."

In disbelief, I admit, "Even though I don't remember anything, you're still smiling. Ette, why aren't you crabby like usual?"

"Crabby?" She laughs so hard she wipes the corner of her eye, her golden irises glistening with tears of joy. "I can't imagine it on this occasion. I'm happy beyond measure, it's all I can feel. You and I. We're here. Together. And it's wonderful. You chose me, and I chose you. Colette and—" Suddenly her hand clasps my own. As our fingers intertwine, she gradually draws us to touch her glowing heart.

My heart races uncontrollably at the incredible feeling of our mutual attraction toward each other. We're really about to join with each other. It's nerve-wracking and wonderful all in the same breath.

"Hey," she says softly leaning toward me, "don't you want this?"

My left hand effortlessly goes to lift the translucent veil as my right caresses her. "Of course, I do."

"Then…kiss me," she says.

A bell starts to ring as I bring my lips to hers. Right as we meet, a tremendous surge of energy flows from between our bodies. And despite this, we press harder together in our combined passion.

Suddenly, my eyes snap open to discover a sea of stars overhead.

"What the…?!" I jolt in place. I can't move because of someone coiled around me. In fact, her heart is right against my chest.

Colette. The same Ette I married in the dream, minus the gaudy gown. The stars illuminate her drowsy visage, transforming her into such a striking sight. My vision distorts, the image of her from my recent dream overlaps with her. The two are one and the same.

Not only that, but her heart, smooth and soft, is pressing along with her chest against me. Its redness seems to glow under the canopy of starlight, pulsing as she anchors herself on my sternum. A torrent of raw sensation drives me to shock, while the startling revelation hits me those throbbing beats are completely synched with my own racing heart buried deep in my ribcage.

I gasp for air as if I have been taken underwater for too long. My heart is pounding, my whole face is wet from perspiration. I try to reach up and dry my brow, only my right hand answers the command. My left is still out of commission in a cast.

"Hah…agh…!" My breaths are sporadic and ragged. As she presses herself flush to me, I realize just how turned on I am when she does that. My blood is scorching hot in my veins, demanding I do something with her. Her legs twist against my thighs, strands of her green hair glue to my sweaty face. I can't control myself much longer at this rate.

I keep on trying to find my center by taking deep breaths. Suddenly, she rolls her whole form on top of me. She might not be heavy, but she fucking feels heavy. Her skin is slightly flushed, rosy and creamy. That mushy sensation as she envelops me in her embrace warms my whole world.

I don't think she's awake, or knows what she's doing to me, but she's about to make me lose it.

In a fit of heated delirium, I tumble to the side, falling out from under her and the hammock. I fall on the sand and race toward the water. It's illuminated, like floodlamps in a pool. Once at the slippery edge, I kneel over. Reaching my hand out to the spring, I scoop up the cold water and douse my face. I gasp again and again, letting the fever flow from my forehead.

While I'm splashing away, from behind me, I hear Ette making a commotion. Turning, I catch a glimpse of her charging straight at me. Shit, she might fall in. I get up to block her path.

"Don't—" Though I catch her, we both fall into the water. Again.

Somehow, she winds up in my arm. The floral scent in her hair is impossible to ignore as she pushes herself into me. It makes my heart beat much faster this time.

"Alv, are you okay?" she asks, her head right near my pounding chest.

"Fine." Not even the glowing water reflecting the moonlight manages to avert my thoughts of her being in my dream. The uncanniness of it all sends a chill up my spine. Staring far into her brilliant gold eyes feels so damn familiar.

"You don't look fine," she says matter-of-factly.

"I'm fine!" I proclaim in a much more forceful voice than the lucid words whirling in my head would suggest.

She recoils, then grimaces as her ears sink low.

"Sorry, Ette, I didn't mean to yell at you."

"Why are you taking a nighttime bath?" she asks innocently.

"Nighttime bath?" As absurd as it sounds, that's one way of describing what we're doing right now.

"Yeah, I like these a lot," she says straightforwardly. "I didn't know you did too."

Wait, she's the one who knocked us into the oasis. Though it's true Ette likes to bathe at night, that's when I saw her— My brain short-circuits from reliving that scene at her lake house.

"Alv! You look like you just saw a ghost!" she remarks.

"Nugh! No, nothing, I didn't see anything!"

She frowns and squeezes me dangerously close. Ripples spread out from where our waists meet. "What's gotten into you?"

You.

"Why won't you answer?"

Because you're right here. This is all so sudden.

"Alv, you're worrying me."

I take a deep breath, brace myself, and twist to face her, trying not to focus too much on her body. "Sorry, I didn't know what to say."

"Hm?" Water droplets flow off her ears as she tilts her head in thought. "Use your voice."

"What?"

"You told me in the cave. You said, 'Even if you're scared of something, you can still talk, like this. Do it, try again and again until you can talk to the darkness that's in your head, tell it that it can't have you."

I'm met with an awkward silence. Ette's been giving me my own advice. And I still don't have an answer in return. Why?

"It's okay," she says in a comforting voice. "I'll use my voice for both of us."

For an instant my eyes look up and down her wet figure glistening in the starlight. I can't hold back my feelings for her which is why I'm so clammed up. How do I stay cool and rational at a time like this?

"When I woke up, you were gone, and I was afraid something happened to you," she says shyly.

"Ette…" The words I so frequently rely on escape me. All I can say is her name as I look away at the still shoreline.

She plants her hand on my shoulder. "Alv, can you look me in the eyes?" The firmness in her voice surprises me more than her tight grip.

I've been avoiding her, which is rude. I start to turn to face her, and she uses her arm to help me the rest of the way.

I'm greeted by her cheerful smile below her golden eyes and damp green bangs. "Here, silly!"

I can feel her determination. Simultaneously, tension evaporates from my body. That deep breath I was holding in my chest? Yeah, it's long gone now.

"I really don't understand why you're out here for a bath, Alv." She speaks without even a hint of anxiousness. To be honest, it stuns me.

With a smirk, I summon my composure and hold her. "It's not a bath, you goof. It's a pond in the desert."

She laughs cutely. "But you still washed off in there like it was a big tub! I suppose on an adventure that's the way it is though. We're just doing things our way!"

"Our way?" I repeat.

"Yup!" She nods exuberantly.

She's so damn cute. I can't even begin to describe her expression. My heart rate is going off the charts and I'm not even peering at her suggestive parts. How do I stop? Do I even want to? My eyes are glued to her.

Her fingers rub the sides of my collar bone as she exhales in the cool night air.

"Oh, come on," I finally say.

"What?" Her grin turns devilish as she reveals her teeth. "Finally wanna say something?"

She knows me too well. It's strange, we only began traveling, but I feel as though I've always known Ette. As weird as that sounds, we have this connection. It's as though we know— No. That wouldn't make any sense.

I slowly wade out of the water with her attached to me.

My hand gestures on the sand. "Here. Have a seat."

Not without a hint of reluctance, Ette does just that. She folds her hands atop her bent knees and calmly breathes the crisp night air.

I get a towel and place it around her. She holds it tight around herself at first.

Then I sit down next to her.

"Are…you still wet?" she asks.

"Nah."

"Don't lie," she scolds. Then, with a flick of her wrist and a telekinetic force, we're both wrapped by the same towel. It's unspeakably warm and cozy because of her body heat and mine.

We stare at the sparkling water under a bed of stars, the arms of the galaxy, for what seems like a few minutes.

"Why?" Ette breaks the silence.

Nerves have me on edge. Is it possible she knows why I'm all out of sorts? I did act weird after catching her. Anxiously, I reply, "Why what?"

"Why is the oasis lit up?"

"Oh, yeah." She's right, the water is aglow with light. However, upon closer inspection, it's not coming from the blanket of sparkling stars above. "It isn't a reflection."

"Of course not!" she says, kicking her leg out at the shore, sending a stream of sand into the water.

"Huh?" I notice one of the lights following an oblong thing swimming away from where she just sprayed the grit. "Oh! It's those fish from before."

"Finneon." Ette leans forward, dragging me along with her in the towel. "That's what you said they're called."

"Uh-huh." Suddenly it clicks, and I remember something I researched, long ago, for a school project. "In clear freshwater, their bodies gather sunlight during the day, which causes their fins to shine at night. That's why they're called _Paracheirodon Solaris_, or more commonly, The Beautifly of the Sea."

"Really?" She gives me a perplexed look. "You might know as much as the Doctor does."

"Nah, a guy like me couldn't cut it as a doc."

"Why not?"

I scoff. "Cause it's not my path in life. Besides, it's trivial info, did a report on those fish, back when I cared about school."

"What happened?"

"Long story, Ette, don't want to talk about it right now."

"Why do you sound so upset?"

She's got a lock on my feelings, that's for damn sure. "It's nothing important, Ette."

"Oh, you were trying to remember the story about the Finneon from before, but were upset since you couldn't."

It's a real shame because she knows my feelings, but not my reason for them. The stupid Finneon story has nothing to do with why I'm distraught. Yet Ette seems to latch on to my emotions and jump to her own conclusions for why I have them. It's immature, but I can't fault her. She knows so little of the world. Even with her empathy powers, she's still got a lot to learn.

While I'm brooding over our disconnect, she stares innocently at the Finneon, remarking, "Still, I didn't know Beautifly had such an effect!"

She misunderstood once again. But I'm not going to ignore it any more. I'll tell her. "The reason I was upset had nothing to do with the story of the Finneon."

"I know that," she replies, "I wanted to take your mind off the reason you feel upset."

Wait, did I just get played by her?

She tilts her head and smiles. "So. Why do they have that name?"

"Well, Beautifly don't have an effect on Finneon, it's the sun. Sunlight lets them during the day, and their scales absorb a small portion of the energy to see even in the darkness of the night."

"Hmm." She points. "They don't give off much absorbed light alone, but together they produce off a lot of light."

"Huh. Then they'd band together, like a bunch of Beautifly migrating in a group."

Ette grins. "Looks like we figured out the mystery!"

"Pft, another one down," I joke. Still, the simple act of solving the simple quandary alongside her is exhilarating and my mind starts to fantasize. All this talk of Beautifly and I feel like there's a few in my stomach right now.

"That's exactly it!"

Her excited voice surprises me. "What?"

"They looked…really ordinary before." Ette's wry smirk returns. "But now it's obvious they were hiding an amazing secret!"

"An amazing secret?"

"Mhm. A special one. And it's ours too, since we're watching it!"

My collar feels warm as she says that. "Ours?"

"Uh-huh!" She nudges me. "We're sharing it!"

It's nice to share the secret of the Finneon with someone. But following my dream, it's tough to look at things the same way. She might have been in my dream, but, surely, we didn't share it. Did we?

If we did, then she knows how I really feel about her. If we didn't, then those thoughts of Ette are still how I felt in my subconscious.

Why am I attracted to her in the first place? Isn't it odd? Or rather, shouldn't I be concerned? Nevertheless, those nagging concerns become so lukewarm when I'm beside her.

"Alv?" Ette says, but I'm lost in my thoughts.

My feelings toward her, I'm straining to keep them in check. Ever since she planted that kiss I've been embroiled in thoughts of what is going on between us. Is it destiny? Is it the artifact? I just can't figure it out. The more I think about it, the stronger the feeling becomes. At this rate, I'm doomed.

"You look sick. You're all red—" Ette points out with a squeeze on my shirt "—and really warm."

She's warm too, but also soft. Just like in the dream. With her this close, those feelings from before all culminate and make me wish for clarity of thought, beg the universe for some wisdom here. Taking a deep breath makes her feel closer, it's that sweet citrus scent in her air, all around her body.

"Alv?"

"I'm fine," I answer as she leans on me. I go on to tell her, "Was just a dream I had."

"About what?" she asks.

About you. However, I'm not about to admit to her what my subconscious cooked up. Besides, unlike in the dream, this Ette can't use telepathy to read my mind. "I'm not sure. Felt so real when I was in it. I could move my arm again. Feel things."

"Ohh, that must've been really nice." Ette says innocently. "I've read about that. Vivid dreams are sometimes caused by stress, anxiety, or an unresolved problem. It's your mind's way of organizing your deepest feelings."

"Hey, be straight with me, you think I'll be able to use it again one day?"

Cradling my injured arm, Ette's ears droop. "I'm not a doctor, so it's difficult to say."

"Dammit!" I snap before realizing I'm losing my cool. "It's frustrating the hell outta me."

She shakes her head. "You're upset about it."

I snort. "Putting it mildly."

"Oh, I'm…I didn't mean to state the obvious. It's just…I feel your frustration."

"Ette?" My voice is hollow with wonder. What started with us sharing basic feelings seems to have evolved into something deeper as we rest next to each other reflecting on our future.

"What will you do once you get better?"

"I…huh?" Her question takes me off-guard. "I thought you said—"

"—C'mon, tell me." Ette leans in. "I'll keep it a secret."

"Well, I want to do normal stuff again, without being injured." Wow. What a stupid response.

Nevertheless, she listens intensively, looking like she's on a case at the hospital and taking mental notes.

Suddenly, it hits me as I imagine her scribbling on her mental clipboard in my mind. "Once my arm's healed, I'm going to build something with my own two hands."

"Ohh, like what?" she asks excitedly.

"Couldn't tell you," I laugh.

"That's mean," she pouts, "don't forget I AM your nurse helping you get there."

"Nah, see, I don't even know." Being forthright with her is best, moreover, it just feels good to do. "This feeling I just got, it's something I'd like to do. And once I get there, get better 'n all, it'll be obvious to me."

"Ooh." She murmurs in contemplation, "Since even if you knew, you couldn't do it right now. That would make you feel bad."

"Exactly."

"So, you'll have to get better." Ette smiles. "That should be your priority since you want to figure it out!"

"Yep, you got it." I grin at how naturally she's taken to my rationale. Ette really understands me. "Whadda 'bout you? You got any plans after we snag the artifact thief?"

In a somewhat despondent manner, she replies, "I think my answer's the same as yours. I don't really know yet."

"Birds of a feather flock together." It's corny to say, but we're both in the same situation. Our mutual uncertainties make it easier to see her as a companion to confide in. "We're really going to trailblaze our way through Rocaire until we find it, huh?"

"Hm. Yes, guess that's true, but I feel different from how I was at the clinic."

Her words intrigue me. "Oh, yeah?"

She nods. "I don't know what it is or why, but when I sit here with you and think about it, I feel like I'll find out what it means for me to be myself."

"Heh, I get that. Suppose we're both searching for something immaterial too. Took us losing something, Destiny's Knot, to set out on a journey to find something else entirely."

Ette softly laughs. "To think, you said you weren't articulate."

"My vernacular's still a bit rough," I grumble. "Trying to become stronger in my thoughts and words. Takes practice to—"

"No, no!" Ette disagrees. "I was being sarcastic."

"Oh." What a moron, I should've known she was joking. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to play it cool with her.

"Don't be hard on yourself," insists Ette. "You're doing great, you're going to get better. Your arm will too."

"Thanks." Though I won't say it, the reason I'm on edge is because of the thoughts swirling in my head about her. By now, it feels obvious it's not just me. She's been not only compassionate, but affectionate. Why? How come she cares about me? What did I do to make her want to help me? Could it be because the two of us are really one and the same? We're both on a journey to figure out who we really are, change our ways, become better. Ette's already made a lot of progress so far, she's learning more about the world, and also herself. That's really important if we're both going to be genuine about ourselves.

Ette nudges me. "Hey, what're you thinking about?"

A cool breeze passes over the glimmering oasis. "The future."

"The future?" she repeats.

"Yeah." I put my arm around her.

Her head leans against mine. "I don't know what the future holds for anyone," she replies softly, then gives a weak laugh. "Some psychic I am."

"No one knows what the future will be because the future isn't set in stone. Even if a psychic could glimpse a possible future, what actually happens depends on individuals – you, me, Morse, and everyone else – making their own choices. There's not a psychic in the world able to tell us all what to do with our lives."

Ette's ears sink, gently brushing down the side of my head. "I'm so useless though…"

Figure now's a good a time as any to bring it up. "Ette. You can't read minds, use telepathy, is that it?"

"N-No!" Immediately, she deflects, though it does not stop her face from flushing. "I told you that's just something Stupid Sera made up."

"Stupid Sera didn't tell me. In fact, Sera using telepathy to speak with me, pretending she was you, made me second-guess it."

Ette quietly toys with her hair braids near her chest.

"You never used telepathy."

Her hand freezes. Deliberately, she taps the edge of her heart. "…I can't use it on you."

"Me?" For some reason I recall the dream where she used telepathy on me and I was able to use my injured arm like normal. "What makes me so special?"

"Nothing," she replies. "Since, apparently, Sera's telepathy worked on you."

I don't get it. "Were you able to use telepathy to talk with Doctor Reeves?"

"I never needed to," answers Ette. "He was always happy to hear my voice – called my words delightful. Since they weren't in his head, he'd never get tired from hearing them. …Unless I started to sing."

I'm starting to see a pattern. Her inability to use the power is such a sensitive subject she'll make up excuses on the spot. I feel bad for her. Really bad. I want to help her. But I don't know how. What could I possibly do? I don't know jack shit about how those mind powers work. If only I had been more tenacious in my studies, perhaps I could understand her species better.

Instead of wallowing in ignorance, my gut tells me to be guileless in my answer. "Telepathy's just one type of mind power." Then I go to build her up. "You've got the power to speak and sing. Those are cool talents, really rare too."

"Everyone told me that when I was a Kirlia." She shivers in my arm. "'Oh, Colette, your voice is so pretty!' 'Sing us a song, Colette!' But then I'd put them to sleep and no one would be awake to see me sing my song to the end. It made me sad since singing was how I learned to speak. I began to begrudge my power."

"You shouldn't," I insist. "I'm glad to be able to talk with you."

She feebly nods. "I was raised…foolishly thinking I was a—" Ette sniffles "—a different-looking human. With special powers to make things float. It made sense when I was young. After all, I thought I was Colette Reeves, daughter of the famous physician, a local celebrity." She tugs on my collar tightly. "But I'm really not the same as you. When I'm with you it becomes more obvious how different we are. And it… makes my heart really hurt to think about."

The pitifulness of her words strikes my sentiments as well. She shouldn't feel this way about being herself. "We've got a lot in common."

"Like what?" she asks, taken aback.

"For starters, we've got the same dream." I choke on the words, as the dream I had comes rushing back to the forefront of my mind. I try to recover from internal embarrassment as warmth fills my chest, "To get better, and to leave our past selves behind."

In a trembling voice she asks, "How?"

"By being real with each other, we're real with ourselves!" I declare, "I don't want to be that asshole who ran away from his problems!" It feels good to get that off my chest. "Go on, your turn. Tell the Finneon and the stars."

"In that case," says Ette, "I don't want to be that snob who sheltered herself from the world!"

It makes me laugh, brutal honesty is especially uncommon for her. "Suppose that's alright, eh?"

Judging by Ette's smile, she feels better too. "Yeah, but I thought it would hurt more than it did to admit."

"That's what makes you, you. I'm glad to have you by my side, Ette. I'm sorry it's not a real beach…but—"

"No, it's fine…" She coos gently. "This is better."

The two of us relax under the stars. Finneon, with their glowing tails, dart beneath the occasional shooting star. I lose track of time watching the midnight spectacle next to her.


End file.
